


To The Thunder

by Thingsareswinging



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thingsareswinging/pseuds/Thingsareswinging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chief Hakoda finds himself in the unenviable position of having to marry off one of his children.  No War AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Today Doesn't Really Know

In accordance with traditions older than anyone in his tribe could remember the provenance of, Hakoda, High Chief of the Southern Water Tribes, laid his spear at the door, cast back his cloak to reveal a hip devoid of armament, and strode alone into the hall of the Fire Lord Azulon.

His footfalls echoed in the room; the only sound rising to greet them was the dull crackle of the wall of flame that dominated the far end, shielding the throne of the Fire Lord from the presence of the (relatively) common folk, and providing the only source of light. As he strode past the long meeting table, seats bare, there was a sudden _thud_ \- the door slamming to behind him.

Then, and only then, did the Fire Lord move, a conservative wave of a hand that parted the wall of fire that separated him from the Chief, splitting it into two pillars of flame that hovered, banked, on either sides of the room. Otherwise, he made no movement at all, no motion to recognise the man now standing before him.

Hakoda resisted the urge to clear his throat. There were protocols to be observed, after all.

After just slightly too long, the seated figure began to speak, in a hacking rasp.

“You have been in my city a week.”

It wasn't a question, so Hakoda saw no particular reason to answer.

“You have spoken to my courtiers, my servants. Men authorised to speak for me, in matters of trade, of borders.”

This was true enough, but Hakoda began to wonder when this speech might become a dialogue.

“In this time, we have not spoken. I have men who speak for me. I have men who read my letters for me. I have a man who chews my food for me.”

A tiny core of Hakoda fought not to make a face.

“You have spoken to the men who talk for me of trade, of meat and furs for wood, and steel. Your food has become... _fashionable_ , they tell me. There is another matter. One of which I would speak to you myself.” Amazingly, the Fire Lord seemed to stir, briefly attempting to rise, before giving up. “This year... you know what will happen.”

“The eclipse.” One of two possibilities, but Hakoda was not about to sing the praises of Sozin's Comet. There was such a thing as pride, after all.

“ _Yes_ ,” Azulon replied, with grim relish. “The eclipse. And after... it will be a... strained year. The Fire Nation finds itself in need of... stabilising elements. There are rumblings, and... it is well known that King Bumi holds... undue influence over the Avatar.”

Hakoda found he could not argue that. “What do you propose?”

Azulon nodded. “A marriage. To show the close ties between our two nations. To dissuade aggression against our shores, and to persuade those at home that there is no call for... expansionism. A marriage, between one of my grandsons and one of your daughters.”

Hakoda blinked, heavily, trying to work out if the Fire Lord was attempting to insult him. “...I only have one daughter.”

Azulon's brow furrowed in sudden uncertainty, dispelling any thoughts that it might have been a deliberate slight, and then broke into a broad smile. “Then your choice is simple. Your daughter shall be wed to my grandson. Zuko, of course. Not Lu Ten.”

Hakoda raised a hand, trying to turn back the flow of the conversation. “Fire Lord Azulon, you understand, I cannot _force_ my daughter to marry anyone-”

“Oh? A shame. I can compel my grandsons to marry whomever I wish.”

“-And even if I could I would not wish to.” He sighed, already dreading the conversation he would have when he returned home. “However, I will suggest it to her. If she is amenable-”

“Capital!” Azulon cackled, rocking back in his chair. “I shall let Prince Zuko know at once. I look forward to the ceremony. There's far too much gloom these days, it will do people good to have something to celebrate. And,” the Fire Lord's face morphed into something parodically sly “you will find there are benefits to joining our two families. You shall not want for steel, or anything else you should ask for.”

–

Once the pleasantries had been duly observed, Hakoda turned on his heel, stalking back towards the door with a head full of worry and hands full of restlessness. He frantically tried to recall everything he could about the young Prince Zuko's only visit to the South Pole, and as such was so distracted that he entirely failed to notice the figure lurking in the shadows, behind a curtain.

–

_Lu Ten breathed deep of the frigid air, blinking away the glare of the sun on the snow banks, and directed his gaze out into the bay._

“ _Nice day for it,” he remarked, for the benefit of the bundle of coats to his left. He didn't get a response, but, in all honesty, he hadn't really expected one._

_He was worried about his cousin. Father was, too._

_They story was it had been an accident. Some kind of mishap on the training ground. The sort that could happen to anyone._

_Lu Ten couldn't help but wonder if he was honestly expected to believe that. But he couldn't say anything, not without challenging Uncle. So all he'd managed was to drag his cousin down to the South Pole, on the simple basis that it was the first diplomatic function he'd been officially invited to, and it was a very long way away from the capital, and so, from Ozai._

_Not for the first time, Lu Ten found himself wishing his aunt were still around. Uncle had almost been manageable then._

_Shaking away his gloomy thoughts as best he could, he nudged Zuko, and prompted him to pay attention. In the middle distance, a figure in blue had appeared, striding down the jetty, both arms extended above its head, waving frantically at the gathered crowd. Sokka, son of Hakoda, the High Chief of the Southern Water Tribes, and today was his fourteenth birthday._

“ _So what's going on again?” Zuko asked, momentarily stunning his cousin._

“ _Well, uh,” Lu Ten laughed softly, scratching at his chin, “as best I can remember, he has to take that boat,” he gestured to the small fishing boat tied to the jetty, “and sail it around those ice... crags.” He waved vaguely at the middle distance, where the ice floes glowered. “And if he gets back in one piece, that means... he wins.” Lu Ten was vaguely aware that this was not entirely passing muster. “I think it also means he's a true man. And the best at boats.”_

“ _Hn,” Zuko mumbled, in disagreement. “Doesn't sound like such a great system if you ask me. What does being able to sail prove about anything?”_

“ _You're asking me like I know, Zuko,” Lu Ten replied, shortly, and then wished he hadn't._

“ _Hn,” Zuko concluded, kicking up the snow with a defiant heel._

_The minutes dragged on, and Lu Ten found himself fervently wishing that Sokka would stop standing around listening to speeches and just get on with it. Finally, the figure in blue stepped onto the gangplank, and started shouting commands, waving his hands in a pinwheel of authority._

_The boat cast off, and Lu Ten breathed an internal sigh of relief when he noticed Zuko's eye turn to follow it._

_And that was when things started going wrong. The wind, which had been steady and well-behaved until the moment Sokka took the helm, suddenly picked up, hurling the boat forward towards the ice floes, but at that moment Lu Ten had more serious problems on his mind, because it was at that moment it started snowing. Within seconds, the clear morning was obscured and muffled behind a thick curtain of flakes, and the only thing he could think to do was conjure a fire in his hand, and huddle around it._

_He tried not to think about the way Zuko's eye widened the second the spark flared. More important to avoid freezing, just at that moment._

_Eventually, as suddenly as it had begun, the snow ended, and Lu Ten looked up to see the boat gliding serenely back into the bay._

“ _Oh good,” he managed. “I guess that means he won. ...I wonder if the octopus is symbolic or something.”_

–

Hakoda had expected this response, but that didn't mean he'd figured out how to deal with it.

“ _No_! _Absolutely_ not!” His daughter stared at him, eyes streaming, anger locking her jaw. “Why would I- how could you- _no_! No I am not going to marry _anyone_! Especially not some jumped-up Fire Nation prince! What made you think I would _ever_ agree to this?”

“I didn't-” Hakoda tried, vainly, before being interrupted again, this time by the figure that had sloped into the room.

“Who's agreeing to what now?” Sokka asked, seemingly not noticing the tableau in front of him.

“I'm not. _Dad_ is trying to get me to marry someone!”

“Oh, okay. Who?”

“Prince Zuko, of the Fire Nation,” Hakoda muttered, shamefacedly, “and I'm not-”

“Zuko?” Sokka's eyebrows rose dramatically. “The one with the hair? Isn't he kind of ...old?”

Hakoda shook his head. “No, you're thinking of Lu Ten. Zuko's the one who's about your age-”

“Oh, _Zuko_ ,” Sokka nodded, theatrically. “Isn't he the one with the face?”

“ _Sokka!_ ”

“What? He's got a face! It's not like he _doesn't_ have a face-”

Katara saw her chance, and stormed out of the room before Hakoda could reorganise his thoughts. He slumped back, falling into a chair, and his son shook his head, as if to clear it.

“Okay, what'd I miss? You _know_ Katara's not going to just marry some guy out of nowhere.”

“I know.” Hakoda smiled, ruefully. “I just think it's not a good idea to go deliberately snubbing the Fire Lord's offer. If she meets the prince, and says no, then that might be enough. I never expected her to _actually_ marry anyone.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I should have started with that.”

Sokka considered something for a moment, before nodding, and patting his father on the shoulder.

“Okay, I got this.”

–

Katara was sitting on the sea-wall, morosely skimming disks of ice into the harbour, when her brother flopped down beside her. She inclined her head, slightly, acknowledging his arrival.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, kicking his feet. “You know-”

“If _Dad_ sent you out here to convince me-”

“No! No. Never.” His face broke into a grin. “I've got a _plan_.”

“Oh no.”

“You haven't even heard it yet.”

“Do I need to?” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Yes,” he sniffed, primly, and continued. “Dad says that all you've got to do is go meet this guy and say no. It was the Fire Lord's idea, and it's terrible, but he's crazy and might start invading places if anyone tells him to jump off a pier, so. We play along, you meet Zuko, you say sorry, I prefer guys that don't have faces-”

“ _Sokka._ ”

“-Or whatever, and we go home, and nobody can say we didn't try. International crisis averted.”

Katara's face screwed up. “Go all the way into the heart of the Fire Nation? And since when were you a part of this expedition?”

Sokka shrugged. “So we meet him somewhere else. We've got a map around somewhere, there's probably some nice place we can meet. And I've been part of this expedition ever since it started looking like an excuse for a vacation.”

“It's not- you were just _on_ vacation!” Katara accused, shoving her brother's shoulder. He fell over, mock-pouting.

“That was work! Training on Kyoshi Island was definitely work!”

“ _Sure_.”

“Dad said I needed to have a well-rounded education to-”

Katara theatrically stuffed her fingers in her ears. “I am not hearing this, not listening, lalalalala-”

“ _Fine_ , be like that. You can just go get married to some prince with a weird face-”

“Sokka, you have to stop that. You're going to _meet_ him.”

Sokka shrugged. “Eh. He might be really handsome and charming now.”

Katara frowned, trying to remember what she could of the prince from his fleeting visit, two years ago. “I don't think so. Although I wonder what he looks like without all those bandages.”


	2. A Little Time To Think Things Over

–

Azula was fairly giddy as she stalked through the halls, head so filled with the electric anticipation of entertainment that it would almost have been possible for an outside observer to actually tell.

 _Zuko_ was _betrothed_. It was just _delightful_. And he didn't even know it yet!

Well, it was clearly her duty to inform him. Anyone could see that this was something he had to be told. Besides, she had just been so very... _bored_ recently. The only real amusement for months had been that business with the Bei Fong girl, and of course that hadn't lasted more than a week before she was apprehended and sent home. She would have been happy with anything to break up the monotony, but she would never have expected _this_.

As she approached Zuko's door, it occurred to her that he might not even be there. Sometimes she wondered if she was the only person who noticed how little time Zuko spent in the palace these days.

Well, Mai probably noticed. But Uncle didn't and Lu Ten probably didn't and Father didn't seem to care and who knew what Grandfather noticed any more, it was sad, it really was.

She reached his door, and opened without knocking, letting the door swing open, and leaning nonchalantly against the doorpost, taking in the scene before her.

Zuko was indeed there- fully dressed in outdoor clothes, in spite of the growing lateness of the hour, shoes on his feet, a small bag over one shoulder, and guilt etched into every line of his face. She had actually caught him about to escape. She didn't even try to hide the grin that tugged at her face.

And she didn't even need to say anything about it. Just stand there, and let him worry himself into a frenzy. Of course, she wasn't about to tell anyone- what would be the point?- but he didn't have to know that.

“What?” he grunted, eventually.

“Oh, I just came by to offer my congratulations, but if you're _busy_ I can come back later,” she smirked.

“...What?” He blinked, laboriously.

“On your upcoming wedding, of course.”

He deflated. “If you've just come here to make fun of me-”

“Oh, not to _Mai_ , of course.”

He froze. “ _What?_ ”

She waved her hand, airily. “To some Water Tribes girl. Oh, didn't you hear? Grandfather was meeting with their Chief earlier today. They agreed on it between them.”

His legs buckled from under him, and he crashed down onto the bed, white as a sheet. “No- no I- they _can't_ -”

“Of course,” Azula continued, blithely, “you're always free to take it up with Grandfather.”

“Azula-” his voice cracked, staring blankly into his shaking hands- “leave me alone. I need you to go. Please. Just-”

Azula's brow furrowed. This was slightly unexpected. She would have at least thought he would raise his voice. Not... _this_.

“As you wish,” she replied, deliberately light and unconcerned, and turned, closing the door behind her. Hopefully, she kept an ear open for the sound of something expensive being thrown across the room, but there wasn't even that.

That had not been quite as entertaining as she had expected.

–

Katara started, as a pile of scrolls dropped into her hands, scattering what remained of her breakfast. Blinking heavily, she glared at her brother, demanding an explanation.

“ _Maps_ ,” he declared, excitedly.

“...Congratulations?” Katara ventured.

“For the trip! Come on, we haven't decided where to go yet.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at him, while unrolling the closest scroll. “ _We_? If you're so interested in this trip, why don't _you_ go get married to this guy?”

Sokka shrugged, apparently unperturbed. “I gotta say, I am totally willing to tell Prince Zuko I'm not interested in marrying him if it means I get a free vacation out of it.”

Katara snorted. “Well, I guess if you put it like that.” She stared down at the map. “Hmm... Whale Tail Island?”

Sokka shuddered. “Oh no. Not after last time.”

“What? It was nice! I had fun!”

“Oh sure, maybe _you did._ I'm pretty sure I still have that scar on my ankle, you know.”

“Oh, you weren't down there _that_ long. But fine,” she huffed, grabbing another scroll “if you're going to be a baby about it, we'll go somewhere else.”

–

“Ember Island. She wants to meet on Ember Island.”

“It's nice to see you too,” Mai grunted, without turning around.

“I was hoping you might come with me,” he said, and her control snapped.

“Why? So I can make sure she's _suitable_? Give her my seal of approval?” she spat, pivoting on her heel, half-striding towards him before she looked into his eyes.

She hated all of them. Every single one of them that had let this happen to him.

“Mai...”

“It's okay,” she rushed, through a hammering ribcage, brushing his apologetic hand aside. “Sure, I'll go with you. It's just...”

“Yeah.” He sagged. “Yeah, I know.”

Mai was acutely aware that, since this particular moment was at least partly her fault, it was her duty to try and lift his mood a little. This was not a task to which she was particularly suited, but she tried, nonetheless.

“You never know, it might be fun.”

And it would at least get him away from the palace for a while. And everyone in it.

–

She waited. She knew the rules by now. Father was not to be interrupted. If he wanted her to speak, he would tell her.

“I am concerned,” he intoned, staring out of the window, into the night. “A great deal hangs in the balance. This year will be... most eventful. The world is watching.” He stroked his chin, thoughtfully, and turned back towards her. “And in the midst of all this, Zuko is to marry.” A wide smirk tugged at his face. “I understand the arrangement is for them to meet on Ember Island. You will go with him, of course. Make sure he does not cause embarrassment. Make sure everything goes... smoothly.” He looked up, towards the ceiling, as if in silent debate. “Upon your return, be ready. I will call upon you.”

Her brow furrowed, but only internally.

–

“ _Why is she here_?” Mai hissed, as Azula stepped onto the boat, apparently without a single care in the world.

Ty Lee shrugged. “...Should she not be?”

Mai sighed. There were some things you couldn't talk about with Ty Lee. Azula's Mai-appointed status as The Worst Person In The World was one of them.

Well. Second-worst person, since Ozai was still alive. With stiff competition from Azulon (Blessed Be His Name, May His Reign Last Ten Thousand Years). And _maybe_ Ursa, depending on which rumours you believed.

In fact, the position of Second-Worst Person In The World was pretty crowded these days.

–

Lieutenant Jee paced up and down the jetty, growing more worried by the hour.

They were supposed to _be_ here by now. The letter had _specifically_ said they would be here by now. But the only ship that had arrived with the tide was a small commercial vessel from Whale Tail Island, and he did not want to be the man to tell the prince that his bride-to-be had unexpectedly failed to arrive-

A sharp cough interrupted his growing worry. He turned around, and saw two teenagers, dressed in blue, waving official documents at him.

“Are you the representative of-” the girl made a face, “Prince Zuko?”

“What- I-” flustered, Jee took a moment to compose himself, before continuing, somewhat more formally. “I am Lieutenant Jee of the Royal Guard, assigned as bodyguard to Prince Zuko.”

“Is he here? Please tell me he's not here,” the boy asked, wildly glancing around him. “Because that was a _really_ long trip, and I at least need to unpack first.”

“Prince Zuko sent me to meet Katara, Daughter of Hakoda, High Chief of the-”

“Yeah, that's me,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. Jee blinked. It was far too late in the day to be dealing with this.

“Excellent. Welcome to Ember Island.” It suddenly occurred to him that something was wrong here. “Where is your retinue?”

“Hi,” the boy said, waving. Jee blinked.

“You came by yourself?” he asked, slightly incredulous.

“I said hi.”

“Wait- hang on,” Jee continued, the limited protocol he had been taught all forgotten. “You took a _commercial_ ship?”

Katara snorted. “I wasn't about to waste a real ship just to take me here.”

“Oh.” Jee tried, too late, to remember himself. Unfortunately, the mental script he had prepared was approximately six hours out of date. “May I escort you to meet the Prince this afternoon?” he asked, in defiance of the setting sun.

“What? No! No, I'm going to go to the hotel, and I am going to lie down. It's been a long journey. I'll see him...” Jee diplomatically ignored the way she sneered, “tomorrow. I guess.”

“Yeah,” interjected the boy, hovering behind her. “Bed sounds good right about now.”

–

“Apparently she's gone to her hotel,” Zuko reported, after Jee had been gratefully dismissed.

“Oh,” Mai replied. She got the feeling that nobody had planned this meeting out particularly well. She supposed she should be grateful.

As Zuko stamped off to the bathroom, Mai exhaled.

“So. What now?”

Ty Lee shrugged. “Well, since the evening's free, I _did_ get invited to this party this evening. I wasn't gonna go, but...” she trailed off, hopefully.

Mai glared at her. “You've been on this stupid island for six whole hours. When did you- never mind. _Fine_. That'll do. But-” she jabbed a finger towards Ty Lee, threateningly “Azula's not coming. Got it? _Azula_. Is _not coming._ We are going to _leave_. _Without_ telling Azula. I'm pretty sure I've made myself clear. Nod. Right now.” It was bad enough that she'd come along, but this was looking like the only time to get Zuko away from her before that Water Tribes girl appeared, and _nobody_ was going to spoil that.

–

“I am so bored.”

“Not my problem,” Katara replied, from her chair.

Sokka stared out of the window, at the squat town, painted maroon in the last rays of the sun.

“I'm gonna go for a walk,” he declared, abruptly.

“Mmhmm,” Katara nodded, paying no attention at all.

–

They were gone.

They were _gone_.

They had gone out, and they had _left her behind_.

Indignant fury propelled her onwards, bouncing off the walls, and, without engaging her brain for one instant, out into the evening.

–

Sokka wouldn't say he was lost. He knew where the hotel was, that part was easy. It was more that he didn't know where anything _else_ was.

So he found himself sitting by a fountain in a small, deserted courtyard, listening to the familiar _whip_ of his boomerang scything through the air.

–

Anger can only last so long, confronted by the bland indifference of solitude, and soon enough, Azula was left with nothing but her thoughts.

It was not pleasant company.

Mai loathed her, probably. Azula had never really given it much thought before. Zuko... she had never expected Zuko to do anything for her, she _couldn't_ expect Zuko to do anything for her, she _knew_ that...

She might have at least expected Ty Lee to say something.

It wasn't as though she was lonely. It was simply that it was beginning to dawn on her that she was surrounded by people who had no choice in the matter.

So surrounded by gloom, she very nearly didn't notice a spinning bit of metal try to take her ear off.

–

Sokka lazily reached out his hand, before it occurred to him that the square was suddenly silent, and that nothing was flying back towards him.

He looked up, and started at the sight of a figure, stepping into the light, boomerang held at arm's length.

“Oh! I am _so_ sorry,” he apologised, stepping forwards, “I didn't see you there.”

–

Azula raised an eyebrow.

He was tall, and gangling, with a strange haircut and a way of walking that seemed unused to paved streets- added up it screamed _Water Tribes,_ although not as loudly as the fact that he was dressed head to toe in blue.

Certainly not some expatriate. Given the size of the town, there was only one real possibility.

“You're here with the Southern Water Tribes princess, aren't you?” she asked, just to confirm that she was right.

“...Yeah,” he replied, and she couldn't stop a smirk. “Sokka, hi. Uh... I wouldn't call her a _princess_ , though. That's not the right word.”

“Well, quite,” Azula agreed. “Azula,” she replied, remembering her manners, just in time. “I arrived with the _Prince_ Zuko.”

If he picked up on the jab, he didn't show it. “Wow. What a coincidence, huh?”

“Hmm,” she agreed. “So what is this?” she asked, holding the slim metal object between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, snatching it back. “Boomerang. It's a boomerang.”

Well, that explained nothing. “And what is it for?”

He grinned. “Seals.”

Azula blinked. “Seals.”

“Yeah! You're out on the ice, you've got your spear, and suddenly, _crash_ , a lion-seal pops up from underneath you, and it is a really, _really_ bad idea to try poke a lion-seal with a spear. So, throw a boomerang. Makes sure it knows you're not tasty.”

She supposed that made sense, but only as far as it went. “You _do_ realise you aren't in the South any more.”

He nodded, unperturbed. “The first thing you learn about lion-seals: never assume there isn't a lion-seal stalking you right this second.”

“You're three miles inland.”

“They're cunning! And mostly teeth!”

There was only so much she could take. The laugh forced its way out of her, surprising her more than anything else, and she propped herself up against the fountain in what she hoped was a suave and in-control sort of way.

“So, uh, what you up to?” Sokka asked. “Just... going for a walk?”

Azula shrugged, blinking away the memory of her previous mood. “Simply bored.”

Sokka nodded, emphatically. “Yeah. Me too.” Silence bloomed, for a moment, before he scratched his chin, and thoughtfully continued. “So, uh, what's there to do for fun around here?”

Azula raised an eyebrow. “I don't really know. I haven't been here since I was a child.”

An idea flickered behind his eyes, and he flashed a sudden grin.

“Wanna go find out?”

The question skidded past Azula's guard, disarming her usual knee-jerk sneering, and for a breathless pause, she weighed her options.

Well, what was the worst that could happen? Besides, it would _definitely_ show the others.

“Alright.”

 


	3. Demolition Woman, Can I Be Your Man?

Mai scanned the crowded room. Ty Lee was in one corner, surrounded by an excited knot of young men (Mai gave it two minutes before one of them got too close and Ty Lee punched him into next week, and made a mental note to stick around for that, because you always had to make your own fun at these things), and Zuko was sullenly grazing at the buffet table, but he had at least agreed to come, and that was definitely a result. All in all, everything-

"Hey baby," a voice insinuated in her ear. Mai sighed. "You looking for a-"

"I'm carrying thirty knives and know all the places to stab a guy so it takes him three days to die. Go away," she said, absently.

"Fine, whatever, no need to be like that."

Yes, she reflected, lounging against the wall, all in all this had been one of her better ideas.

...Apart from the fact that Azula had just walked in with some guy on her arm. Which was incongruous enough that it might have been worthy of comment, if Mai had not been more concerned about how much this could be a problem.

Okay. Damage control.

The important thing, in times like this, was to remain _absolutely calm._

\--

Mai, Ty Lee thought, was acting decidedly flustered. If she wanted a word, all she had to do was ask. There was no call to drag her off by her braid, and she was pretty sure kicking that guy that had complained in the knee was going overboard.

"Where's Zuko," she demanded, eyes darting around the room. "I lost him."

"He's out on the balcony," Ty Lee replied, engrossed in trying to straighten her hair back out. "He grumped something about getting some air. What's gotten into you?"

Mai's eye decidedly twitched.

" _That_."

Ty Lee peered in the direction Mai's thumb indicated.

"Oh hey! Azula made it! And she brought a friend," she grinned.

Mai held her face in her hands. "She wasn't meant to 'make it', we left without her _for a reason_ -"

"And he's cute! Don't you think he's cute?"

Mai resignedly peered over at Azula's guest, a lanky Southern barbarian who was currently trying -scratch that, succeeding- to eat three pig-chicken legs at once.

"...No. And now I've lost track of-"

" _Ladies_."

The tension relaxed from Mai's shoulders. Ty Lee turned around, into Azula's lightning gaze.

"Azula! It's so great to see you!" While Mai melted into the background, Ty Lee stepped forward, engulfing the princess in a sudden embrace. Behind her, while Azula was unable to object, Mai turned around.

" _Whatever_ ," she opined, and stamped away, entirely coincidentally in the direction of the balcony.

\--

Chan was slightly mesmerised by the figure currently making his way through most of the snacks. On the one hand, he wasn't invited, wasn't a friend of anyone there, wasn't dressed right, he'd eaten enough for five already, and was currently waving a bone at him. All of these were pretty good reasons why he should be kicked out right now. But, on the other hand, he had arrived with the actual Princess Azula. The actual _Princess Azula._ Of the Fire Nation. A nation of which Chan was, in fact, a citizen.

So Polite Host was definitely the card to play here.

"So... uh," he began, suddenly realising that the Southerner hadn't actually given his name.

"Sokka," the boy replied, diplomatically wiping his hands on the tablecloth (which cost more than some houses, Mother was going to _murder him_ ). With an 'okka'."

"Chan," he replied, slightly stunned.

"Chan. Great party, by the way. I haven't had seal testicles in ages."

Chan was feeling a little bit faint. "...Those aren't seal testicles. No testicles of any kind."

Sokka's face fell. "Oh. Oh well, they're good anyway. So," he started, brightening up, "when's the singing start?"

Chan blinked. "Singing?" Chief among his sudden questions was, clamouring for an answer, _how did you get into the company of Princess Azula?_ Two things stopped him, though. Firstly, in spite of his carefully constructed cool, this was in fact Chan's first time hosting a party, and he couldn't be sure singing wasn't actually something people were expecting him to lay on, and, secondly, the fixed grin on Sokka's face was beginning to give him the idea that he might just be being gently wound up.

\--

Ty Lee was infuriatingly immune to guilt. Azula had learned that some time ago. This did rather spoil the fun of the situation somewhat- Mai, for example, would have certainly reacted appropriately (in her own muted fashion, if course) to being caught at this party, and indeed Azula had tracked this place down primarily for the fun of showing up uninvited and holding it above everyone's heads without mentioning it- but Ty Lee simply reacted as though it was a delightful coincidence that they were all here, and nobody had left anybody at the house while they snuck away. But, on the other hand, it was nice to just have someone to talk to sometimes.

"Mai is behaving oddly," she observed.

Ty Lee frowned with a befuddlement that could not possibly be genuine. "Really?"

Azula nodded. "Really." Azula wasn't a fool- she could see that Mai was not her closest confidant, although for the life of her she couldn't work out what she had done to deserve her ire- but she had never seen Mai so... twitchy before. "I wonder what's got into her."

Ty Lee shrugged. "Oh, you know. Zuko," she replied, and Azula almost choked on her drink.

"Oh yes. This betrothal business. I had almost forgotten." She had not given it much thought, after that first day.

\--

Mai slowed at the sight of Zuko, hunched over the railings, staring at the moonlight, and considered her options. 'You okay?' was bound to make him angry, 'hey' would be a complete nothing of an opening, but 'great party' might be good for a derisive snort. 'So guess what, your sister showed up' would almost certainly be counterproductive.

"Great party," she droned. He snorted, derisively. She counted it as a victory, and sidled over beside him, flopping sideways, leaning against the supporting pillar, a few feet away from him.

The silence was cloying, filled up by the both of them frantically worrying about The Issue, the reason they were there, both of them coming to the realisation that it was too late not to think about it.

"Look," she said, bluntly, "I get it. You're royalty. There's things you're expected to do, like kiss babies and not carry money and marry strangers because granddad says so. I get it. You do... what you've got to do. I'm a big girl, I'll be fine."

Zuko looked like he bit back his first response, staring out into the water for a long while. Finally, he said something.

"I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat and her tongue was thick and stupid and all she managed to choke out in reply was "Well that's a hell of a thing to spring on someone right now, isn't it?"

Zuko let out a forlorn chuckle. "I guess I never did have much of a sense of timing."

\--

Ty Lee seemed to sense Azula's sudden desire to change the subject, and obliged. "Sooo," she drawled, nodding over to the other side of the room, towards where Sokka was holding court to a gaggle of guests, expressions ranging from horrified to fascinated and every shade in between, spinning the tale of How I Got Stuck In A Ravine For Three Days And Had To Live On Snow. Apparently, in spite of expectations, it involved a great deal of waving his arms.

Azula felt eyes on her, and turned back to Ty Lee. "What? He's some member of this Water Tribes girl's retinue, we met by coincidence, we were both _bored_ ," she explained, adding emphasis in the vain hope that Ty Lee might at least look a little contrite, "and we decided to see if there was anything to do around here."

"He's cute, isn't he?" Ty Lee laughed.

Azula had known this question was coming, and she had a plan. Ty Lee was trying to embarrass her, and the only sure way to deal with that-

"Yes," she answered, plainly, and took a long sip of her drink.

-Just let it pass right through. Ty Lee, infuriatingly, seemed not to notice she had been outmanoeuvred, and just looked delighted.

\--

Zuko glared at the moon as though it was personally responsible. He'd tried, he'd tried so hard, to be a worthy son, to do what was expected of him, to get things right... and nothing worked. No matter what he did, nothing was ever good enough. Not for his family, not for anyone.

Except Mai. He didn't know what she saw in him, but he knew he didn't deserve her. The way she held herself, the way she always looked angry to be laughing, the way her hair fell across her face, the way she could read him with a glance...

It had all felt like... a mistake, these past months. Like something out of someone else's life. Something he wasn't meant to have, but he'd almost dared to dream it might last. In the dead of night, he'd harboured the wish that they might just forget about him. Azula only noticed him when she was looking for someone to torment, and Father was usually content to pretend he didn't have a son these days, and it hadn't seemed too far to dream that he could just slip away one day, and never be noticed at all.

Well, Grandfather had put paid to that.

He didn't deserve her, and now he wouldn't have her at all.

It wasn't _fair_. He'd always known that, known that it wouldn't make a difference to complain about it. But the beach looked so inviting, long and deserted in the moonlight, and for one mad second he felt the urge to take her hand and just run, away from everything.

But he couldn't do that to her. It looked like tonight was all he had, the one moment set aside for him.

Well then. Time was wasting.

Smoothly, he vaulted over the railing of the balcony, landing with a thud on the other side. Turning back, he offered his hand to Mai, who raised an eyebrow.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked.

After a moment of scrutiny, she shrugged, and accepted his help over the rail.

"It was an awful party anyway."

\--

"Ty Lee, I have told you, I am not looking for advice," although some would probably help, she thought, privately. "I'm just going to talk to him."

"Of course!" Ty Lee answered, with a nod. "And remember, just be yourself."

Azula glared. "If you're going to make fun of me, you can leave now."

\--

Sokka sat back, leaning up against the wall, and breathed in the warm night air.

Good food, nice scenery, interesting company, all in all, a pretty successful evening.

Movement down on the beach caught his eye, and he pulled himself to his feet and crossed the balcony, leaning on the railing and peering at the two dark figures crossing the beach with mild interest until a soft noise from behind made him turn around.

Azula. In the firelight she walked like a tiger, the dancing flames in her eyes dropping a lead weight into the pit of his stomach, his jaw dropping ever so slightly and a tiny voice in his head whispered _you are in so much trouble._

All this happened in an instant, as she paced over to position herself next to him, and he fervently hoped he didn't look as stupid as he was feeling.

He might have been gratified to know that the long pause that followed was a result of her having no idea how to start the conversation.

"So..." He prompted, after a few seconds.

"Really three days?" she asked, looking sidelong a him.

He shrugged. "Days, hours, what's the difference?"

"And the eating snow?"

"I thought about it! I thought about it _really hard."_

She laughed, unmusical and harsh, the sort of laugh _cackling_ was invented to describe, but Sokka was beginning to suspect he wouldn't mind hearing it some more.

But all good things had to come to an end. "I've had a really great time tonight, thanks for letting me tag along," he said, and she demurred in reply, a tilt of the head indicating that it was nothing to make a fuss over, unless he really wanted to, in which case by all means, go ahead. "Look, I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow, I guess? At this thing?"

Azula looked as though she wasn't sure what he was talking about for a moment, and then nodded, in understanding.

"So, uh, goodnight, I guess."

Azula looked conflicted for the briefest moment, and then she must have come to a decision, because she held him still by the lapels and pulled in for a kiss, brief and hard. Azula pulled back with the air of a conqueror; Sokka looked like he'd been hit by something heavy.

Azula nodded, trying not to show how pleased she was with the slow smile crawling its way across his face. "Goodnight."


	4. Not In The Way

\--

Katara glanced pointedly out of the window. If there had been anyone else in the room, the way she scowled at the sun, now high in the morning sky, would have been heavy with meaning. As it was, she was just frowning at a blameless astronomical phenomenon for the benefit of a bookcase, two chairs, and a pai sho table. Still, it made her feel a little better.

Soon enough, though, the novelty wore off, and she was about to go and start shouting instead, when Sokka finally emerged, eyes wide, slightly out of breath, and a little shinier than usual.

"We have _got_ to get one of those back home," he declared. Ah. He had discovered indoor plumbing. That explained it, Katara supposed, in the disinterested way of one for whom water falling from above onto her head in a controlled manner was nothing to get excited about.

"Alright, we're late already, so let's-" wait a moment. Something was wrong. Katara's eyes narrowed.

"You've _shaved_ ," she accused. Sokka's brow furrowed in such a thorough display of confusion that she knew he was hiding something.

"Yeah. That is something I do most mornings. You feeling alright?"

"No, I mean you've shaved _properly_. And your nails!" Sokka moved to guiltily hide his hands behind his back, but Katara had seen all she needed to. "They're clean!" She sniffed, intent on plumbing the full depths of this horror. He flinched at her incredulous expression. "Perfume? Alright, what's going on?"

Sokka unexpectedly rallied. "Well for some reason I figured it might be a good idea to fancy up a little for the benefit of that incredibly important foreign prince who we're going to be disappointing today. You know, seeing as we're telling him no, the least we could do is look like we care. To be honest," he continued, buoyed up by diplomatic concern, "you could've made a bit more of an effort yourself!"

Oh Spirits, she realised, with creeping dread. He was right. "Do you think I've got time to do my hair?"

"No, we're late already, come on, let's go."

\--

The curtains had been closed with some care, and were well-made to begin with, and so Zuko's sleep was uninterrupted by the passing of the morning, and only ended with a loud hammering on his bedroom door.

" _Wxlfrgl_ " muttered the shape to his left, and rolled over. Gingerly, he prised his arm out from underneath her, and rolled out of bed, massaging life back into his stricken limb as he staggered over to where his robe was hanging, on the back of the door. Pulling it on, he half-opened the door, revealing Lieutenant Jee, who blinked and averted his gaze, which confused Zuko until he remembered to do his robe up.

"The party from the Southern Water Tribes is expected to arrive shortly, Prince Zuko," Jee said, apparently to the lintel.

"Okay," muttered Zuko, closing the door. Lumbering across the floor on legs that didn't seem to have knees, he crossed over to the washstand, poured water into the basin, warmed it with his hands, and, once he judged the temperature to be bearable, stuck his head in it.

\--

"They're late," Azula snapped, pacing up and down. From her seat, Ty Lee frowned. She would have shrugged, but, given her current position, that would have ended disastrously.

"So? Maybe they just got held up somewhere."

Azula scowled out the window. Ty Lee briefly concentrated, and with a sudden surge, the world was upside-down again. She did her best thinking like this, in her opinion.

"You really don't need to worry, you know," she said, stopping Azula dead in her tracks.

"Worry? Why would I need to worry? What could I possibly have to worry about? I'm not _worried_."

This time, Ty Lee did shrug, shifting the whole world a few inches towards the ceiling for a moment. "Okay."

Azula scowled. "What? Okay what?"

"You said you're not worried. I said okay," she replied, simply. Azula glared, before pacing out of the room entirely.

There were some days, Ty Lee reflected, as the world began to spin again, when Azula was impossible to talk to.

\--

"Is this the place? This looks like the place."

Katara glanced sidelong at her brother. "This is the address we've been given, yeah. Look, what's-"

"Does my hair look alright? I can't see it. Not that I could usually see my hair, it's just that I don't have a mirror with me and it's just important to me that... my hair... looks alright." He limped to a finish, and stared at his shoes.

If Katara had been feeling charitable, she would have interrupted him halfway through that sentence, but he'd been getting to her all morning, and she wanted to know what was going on.

"Sokka..."

"Look. This is the place, we should stop hanging around and go in."

She turned to glare at him. "Why are you so twitchy this morning?"

"Twitchy? I'm not twitchy, let's go. You go first."

"Ugh, fine. Whatever's got into you, keep it under control." She set her shoulders, and headed for the door. "Let's get this over with."

\--

There were condemned men that walked towards the block with more obvious enthusiasm than Zuko was showing getting dressed. But then, Mai reflected, he'd never been particularly enthusiastic about clothes, although not in a fun way. He just seemed to begrudge having to make a decision before breakfast.

Now he was so sluggish as to be glacial. He'd opened the wardrobe and had been staring at the same rack of shirts for ten minutes.

"They're all red," Mai supplied, helpfully. "So pick a red one."

"There's subtle differences," he grunted, flatly.

"There are not." Mai was not about to let him get away with that one. "They're all red with gold and orange highlights. Every single one of them."

"There can be lots of kinds of red. Red can mean a lot of things," he replied, but there was a hint of a smile.

"And it just so happens that every one of them is the exact same red. Apart from that one at the end, but it never was the same after Tom-Tom was sick on it."

Zuko stared blankly at the offending shirt as though he had never seen it before. "...Why did I _pack_ this one?" he asked, with mounting confusion.

"All the wonderful memories?" she suggested, mostly facetiously.

Zuko not-laughed, and ran a finger along the hem of the garment in question. "You know, for my first time babysitting, I don't think I did too bad."

"If by that you mean both of you were alive at the end of it, then I guess."

Zuko huffed, and folded his arms. "Your parents didn't seem to mind."

Mai rolled her eyes. "My parents wouldn't have a bad word for you if you punched Dad in the face. They were practically on the rooftops declaring what an honour it was for Prince Zuko to condescend to set fire to such a humble kitchen as theirs."

And that got a real laugh, which was a result.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rapping on the door, and the spell was broken.

"Zuko," Azula's voice cut through the closed door. "It's time."

\--

"You know, considering how late we were, you'd think they'd be ready," Sokka observed. The Lieutenant from the evening before had ushered the two of them into what he referred to as a 'waiting room'. The fact that it was just the entrance hallway had not escaped them, but it hadn't seemed polite to mention anything. Katara was trying to make herself comfortable on a low bench that she was beginning to suspect was meant for putting shoes on, while Sokka was leaning against the wall, and slowly sliding down it, as the minutes passed. Katara idly wondered if they would be summoned before he actually hit the ground.

Katara shrugged. "You don't hurry royalty, I guess."

In fact, at that exact moment, the door opened, and the Lieutenant entered, bowing stiffly.

"The Prince is ready to see you now."

"Right," Katara said, standing up, as, behind her, Sokka fell to the floor with a _thud_.

\--

Mai lurked in the corner of the room, passing the time before Jee came back by trying to list all the places in the world she would not rather be than here at this precise moment.

It was a very short list. So far, she'd managed 'that part of a volcano where you're not close enough to burn up immediately but are still close enough that you're dying of poisonous fumes', 'Omashu', and 'anywhere near enough to hear Fire Lord Azulon (Blessed Be His Name, May He Never Stick His Foot In A Nest Of Howling Scorpions) while he's eating'. And she wasn't even entirely convinced that that part of a volcano actually existed, and wasn't just something she'd half-overheard once.

\--

Katara blinked as she stepped around the Lieutenant, into the room. In contrast to the hallway, it was well-lit, properly furnished, and full of people.

And there he was. Katara wasn't in the mood to note fine details, but she couldn't suppress a thrill of horror, as she saw what the bandages she remembered had been hiding.

\--

Azula was feeling more stable, now the moment of truth had finally arrived. The extra half an hour she had unexpectedly been given had not gone to waste, after all. Not one hair out of place. And when it came down to it, she still had her secret weapon.

It felt good to have a plan.

Jee stiffly opened the door, and marched into the drawing-room, two visions in blue in tow. The girl was stiff and obviously about as happy to be there as Zuko was, and Azula's interest more or less ended there. _Him,_ though...

He'd made an effort. Dressed with more care than last night. Cleaner, too. She couldn't help giving him a crooked smile, as his rapidly dancing eyes found hers, and was intensely gratified to recognise that same slightly stunned look crossing his face again.

She'd _got_ him. All she had to do now was wait for Jee to make the official introductions. Really, it was almost too easy.

"May I present Katara, Daughter of Hakoda, High Chief of the Southern Water Tribes," Jee droned, "and Sokka, Son of Hakoda, High Chief of the Southern Water Tribes."

Yes, Azula mused, really it was almost a shame-

 _What_?

\--

"...Prince Zuko, son of Ozai, grandson of Fire Lord Azulon..." Katara sighed, internally, and tried to concentrate on the parade before her. The Prince had certainly brought some colourful friends with him.

"...Princess Azula, Daughter of Ozai-"

To her left, Sokka apparently suddenly forgot how to breathe. It took every last ounce of self-control not to elbow him sharply in the ribs.

\--

Jee finished his introductions, finally, and left the room as quickly as was not obviously rude. Next time they wanted a courtier, he promised himself, they could damn well send a courtier. There was a reason he'd chosen a career that primarily consisted of wearing a helmet and hitting things, and while it wasn't solely because of his fear and baffled hatred of diplomatic protocol, he would be lying if he said it had not been a factor.

Besides, that Katara girl had been starting to unnerve him.

\--

If there were any justice in the world, Mai's glare should have left the Water Tribes girl as a smoking shadow on the opposite wall. It was bad enough that she was sneering at the room like they were the ones disrupting her day. It was bad enough that she was showing no signs of apprehension at all, as if this was just a routine chore. But she had flinched at the sight of Zuko's scar, and Mai would never ever forgive her for that.

"Prince Zuko," the girl said, after a moment of awkward silence. "Is there somewhere private we could have a word?" And that was phrased oddly. Mai couldn't figure out what she meant by it.

Zuko looked flummoxed as well. "Uh, sure. This way."

The two of them filed out, heading for a study. Mai serenely waited twelve whole heartbeats, then drifted noiselessly in the direction they had gone.

\--

Ty Lee smiled conspicuously at Sokka, peered over his shoulder and waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially at Azula, who didn't look as though she noticed, and carelessly tumbled out of the room.

After a while, Sokka cleared his throat. "If I asked why she just backflipped out the window, would I get a sensible answer?"

Azula sighed, in a defeated kind of way. "I don't think so."

"Oh, okay then."

\--

Azula was understandably annoyed. She'd had a _plan_. She was well aware that her interpersonal skills began and ended at telling subservient people what to do, and so had planned around that fact. A charm offensive- aided by the unexpected windfall of an extra half-hour's preparation time- coupled with the sudden revelation that she was Princess of the Fire Nation, and nobody to be trifled with, would have been enough to impress him into being amenable to her suggestion that they... spend time together or possibly dominate the earth, she had unaccountably failed to plan that far ahead yet.

But it had all gone wrong, because it turned out he was some kind of _Prince_.

No. He'd actually mentioned something about this. They didn't have Princes in the Water Tribes. That, at least, was something. But the fact remained that he wasn't likely to be impressed by a title.

She dared a glance at where he was still standing. He didn't _look_ unimpressed. Perhaps this could still be salvageable after all.

"So, uh ...princess?" he asked, with a hint of a smile.

She raised an eyebrow. "Chief's son?"

He coughed, and at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "It, uh, never came up?"

"Exactly."

He nodded, a few more times than was strictly required. "So, I was wondering, after this is all out of the way, we'll be staying around for about another month, and I was thinking you might want to get together sometime and go out to do an... activity?" All this was delivered, variously, to his shoes, the floorboards, the windows, and finally, in an unprecedented display of boldness, her left ear.

Azula blinked. There was something niggling about the first half of his sentence, but it was obliterated as she began to work out what he meant by the second half.

"...An _activity_?" What could he- oh. _Oh_. He was far ahead of her.

Suddenly Mai came skidding around the corner, and collapsed into the nearest chair, pulling a book out of some hidden pocket, and expertly assembling an air of boredom. At the same moment, Ty Lee came swinging back into the room, by a different window, and the sound of footsteps let Azula know that the happily betrothed could not be far behind.

In the confusion, she tapped Sokka on the shoulder, and muttered into his ear.

"Hold that thought," she told him, and then looked up as Zuko entered, ready to figure out just what was going on.


	5. If Wanting The Good Life Is Such A Crime

The only room on the ground floor that could really provide privacy- in that it had four whole walls and a door that shut- was a small study, and so it was there that Zuko led Katara.

When he opened the door to it, his horrified feet stopped him dead before his brain understood what his eyes were presenting him with.

Someone had _made tea_. And laid it out, neat and inviting, with two small cups.

The first thought rattling through his head was _who did this, who would do something like this._ This was painful enough as it was, without someone setting it up to look like he was somehow _enthusiastic_ about all this, it was-

The second thought, overtaking the first on a wave of terror, was _she's going to think I did this_.

If he'd been confident he had the wit, he would have clearly and calmly disavowed all prior knowledge of this. Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely sure he was up to complete sentences any more, so instead, he limply gestured towards the seats.

“Uh... tea?”

–

Katara frowned as she accepted the cup from the Prince. It was too hot, of course, but so was everything on this island.

He wasn't what she'd been expecting. Not by any means. She'd been steeling herself for a sneering, hair-flipping aristocrat. She'd assumed that the Prince had been complicit in arranging this whole stupid situation.

She wasn't sure what to make of this hollow-cheeked boy sitting in front of her, staring fixedly at the spill he'd left on the table from his inexpert attempts to pour tea, hair a tangled cloud of fluff, dressed in a fine shirt- red and orange and gold- that nevertheless looked slightly faded, as if from too many washes.

She'd had a speech all ready. It was long, well-reasoned, and contained the phrase ' _outdated sexist model of international relations_ '. She'd practised it seven times on the trip over. On Sokka, much to his repeated dismay, until he'd memorised it enough to mime along and pull stupid faces. It was, she thought, a pretty good speech.

She was just starting to wonder if Prince Zuko was really the one she should be addressing it to.

Abruptly, she made a decision. Setting her cup down with a click of china, she folded her hands in her lap, and attempted to look Zuko in the eyes, a feat made more difficult by the fact that he seemed engrossed in the patterns of the table.

“Look,” she exhaled, in what she hoped was a conciliatory tone. “You seem ...nice, and don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not going to marry you.”

It looked as if his eyebrows got the news first, worrying themselves together as the rest of him slowly caught up. His teacup slipped from his fingers and skittered across the table, as, just outside the door, there came the sudden _thud_ of something heavy hitting the ground.

“...What?”

Katara was beginning to suspect that there was something else going on.

“...Like Dad agreed. The arrangement was I come to meet you, _then_ I decide whether I want to get married or not. Which I don't,” she said, feeling it bore repeating. “And that's the end of it.”

Zuko slowly fell forwards. His head landed almost gently on the table, where it bounced. Both arms slowly emerged, and wrapped around what little of his face was still visible.

“...I have been _such_ an idiot,” he mumbled. Katara blinked, and naturally assumed he was talking about the tea.

“...I mean, it's nice that you've made an effort, I guess, but really I just met you. I know you came to visit a couple of years ago, but really I don't think we actually talked at all-”

“No!” Zuko exclaimed, sitting up suddenly, hands outstretched in supplication. “No, you don't understand. I... uh, have a girlfriend, actually.”

“Oh!” Something _definitely_ wasn't right here. While she worked out what it was, she reached for polite conversation. “Is she here?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling faintly. “Mai.”

Mai, Mai, which one was “Oh! The one with the really scary eyes?” That probably did not count as polite conversation, but she had at least solved the mystery of why the gloomy girl in black looked like she had been trying to murder Katara with her mind.

“She always looks like that, don't take it personally.”

–

He was _very lucky_ she was in such a great mood, Mai decided, from her comfy new position on the floor, because otherwise he would _definitely_ have been paying for that one.

–

“...Wait a minute,” Katara said, as implications clicked into place. “...Did you think that there wasn't a choice?”

Zuko blinked. “...Yeah.”

Katara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why would anyone- that wasn't the deal Dad made with the Fire Lord, why were you told-” no. It wasn't any of her business, so time to end this line of inquiry before it inevitably _became_ her business.

“Okay, first things first. We've got to tell the others, I guess.”

–

Azula blinked, heavily. “I beg your pardon?”

The Water Tribes girl shrugged. “I don't know what anyone expected me to say. No, we are _not_ getting married.”

Well at least she was sensible, the thought skimmed, across the surface of Azula's mind. Idly, her glance rolled over to the corner, where Mai had not looked up from her book.

Slowly, with no other indication that she was aware of the eyes on her, she raised one arm up, and deliberately gave Azula a thumbs up.

Azula knew a time to withdraw when she saw one.

–

“Okay, so now that's out of the way,” Mai announced, snapping the book shut (loud and sudden enough to make the Water Tribes girl jump, which Mai found more amusing than she _really_ should) “now what?”

Ty Lee grinned, and threw her arms over Azula's and The Water Tribes Guy's shoulders. No, wait, hang on, that hadn't been what Mai meant _at all-_

“How's about we go to the beach?” Ty Lee suggested, as Mai attempted desperately to convey the fact that _no_ , she had absolutely _not_ meant that these two idiots stick around, thank you very much for not marrying Zuko, now _go away_.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

–

“I hope you enjoyed your summers, for they are over now. You will remember this moment every time the sun sets, and every time the west winds blow you will be reminded of this failure. Your defeat today will follow you for the rest of your days, and in your dotage your children will not understand why you cry; this moment will be why you do not rejoice on your own wedding day, your defeat here will be all you see in your dreams, the shame you feel today shall turn your every waking moment into a nightmare from which you will _never escape!_ ”

“Woo! Yeah, suck on _that!_ ”

Katara glanced over at the source of the shouting, and, seeing that the net was now on fire and people were starting to run, buried her head in her hands. She should have known letting Sokka near volleyball would be a bad idea.

“Just tell me one thing,” she muttered, into her fingers. “Is he encouraging her?”

Ty Lee considered this carefully. “...Nooooo? I mean, she's not usually smiling so much.”

“Oh then that's fine,” she giggled, helplessly.

\--

Mai glanced sidelong at the figure in the middle distance who was doggedly attempting to wear the ice-cream man down into accepting Water Tribe money. Something was bothering her about him.

“He can't _actually_ like her,” she mused, aloud.

Ty Lee shrugged. “Sure he can.”

“Eh.” She had a point, he _did_ seem to be kind of stupid. “I suppose it's our moral duty to warn him.”

Ty Lee blinked. “Why?”

Mai considered this. “Good point.”

Genuine entertainment was hard enough to come by. Besides, it might keep Azula busy for a while.

–

Zuko was standing off by the water, staring blankly into the horizon. But he turned a little as she approached.

“Oh,” he exhaled, in a way that made her perhaps wonder if he'd been waiting for someone else. “Hi, Ty Lee.”

He had something on his mind, but didn't seem to be equal to starting the conversation. So she decided to give him a bit of a nudge.

“What a morning, huh? Mai looks happier than I've seen her in _months_. You can tell 'cause her forehead isn't quite so wrinkly.”

He looked sort of wistful, and wrung-out. “You ever have one of those moments where you just think _this is it, it's all over_ , and then it's just... not? You're trapped waiting for something you can't get away from, and you can't see past it. And then at the last second, it's gone, and ...what next?”

Ty Lee smiled, faintly, and waited for him to remember. He would, he was thoughtful, even if he pretended not to be sometimes.

Sure enough, he suddenly froze, and scratched the back of his head. “Oh. Yeah. I guess you did. Sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don't worry about it.”

“...You ever miss the circus? It's been about a year now, since you came back.”

Ty Lee sighed, wistfully. “Some days. But,” she brightened up, and punched him in the biceps, in a friendly sort of way “I think I missed everyone more. It's so _nice_ to see everyone again.”

Zuko sighed, and stared out over the water again.

“...Father is going to be _furious_.”

She caught herself just in time before she said something really _stupid_. There was only so far a comparison could be stretched, after all. (She definitely, _definitely_ didn't think about how her own father had been angry with her, and yet never raised his hand, because that sort of thought was edging just slightly too close to treasonous.)

Instead, she just patted him on the shoulder in a commiserative sort of way, and watched the water with him.

–

“...Hi.”

Mai looked up as Sokka flopped down on the sand, breathing heavily. She didn't see any point in responding, so she didn't.

“...Why is this place so _hot?_ ”

Mai frowned. “It's the _Fire_ Nation. It'd be weird if it wasn't.”

Sokka looked confused in return. “Yeah, but, surely _sometimes_ it's gotta be cold. Doesn't it ever snow?”

Mai was beginning to wonder if he was just trying to annoy her. “...No. I can safely say it never snows in this part of the Fire Nation.”

Sokka had the look of one whose mind had suddenly been opened to hitherto undreamed-of possibilities. “...Huh.”

Blessed silence returned, for about five seconds.

“Say... you seen Azula around? She disappeared about twenty minutes ago, I was wondering if you'd seen her.”

Agni was testing her, he really was. Every charitable bone in her body was crying out to _tell him_ that Azula was crazy and evil and really not someone you wanted to hang around for any length of time. Fortunately, she only had about two charitable bones in her body, and they were small, and easily ignored.

“...No.”

And she marvelled at the way his face fell. Here was someone who had actually spent more than five minutes in the company of Princess Azula, and yet he actually looked _crestfallen_ to hear that she was no longer within earshot. It was baffling, it really was.

–

The situation was... not entirely going according to plan. She had thought they would be putting on _Love Amongst the Dragons-_ that had been the reason why the idea had come to her in the first place. Still, at least they were performing a romance. And a well known one, at that.

And besides, now she thought about it, she wasn't sure she wouldn't be happier never seeing _Love Amongst the Dragons_ ever again. Best, perhaps, to let that lie.

–

It was getting late, the afternoon sun was low in the sky, and the beach was beginning to clear. And Azula had still not turned up again.

Katara was starting to nag at him, saying they should really get going. So far, he'd managed to put it off. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a hint-

Or not. Azula was bearing down on him with a determined expression. He got halfway through waving before she thrust something in his hand. A slim piece of paper.

A ticket.

“Six thirty, in three days. Do not be late,” she told him, sternly, and before he could reply, she had turned on her heel and marched away.

“Okay!” he managed to yell, at her retreating back.

Well, that had been weird.

–

Right, she thought, briskly. That was that sorted. And now she had three days breathing room to avoid saying something monumentally stupid.

But before that, there was one thing left to deal with. One niggling little question that she wanted answered.

–

Zuko's sister had cornered her by the stairs, and was looking at her with slightly worrying scrutiny.

“I have a question,” she announced. Katara turned, to indicate that she was listening. “How is it that you can just _decide_ not to honour this agreement between our two nations, just because you don't want to?”

Katara smiled. It was nice to see all that preparation wouldn't go to waste after all.

“Well, first you've got to recognise that the idea of diplomatic ties being strengthened by arranged marriage is an outdated, sexist model of international relations...”


	6. As Deep As Any Ocean

Three days sounded like a long time, until noon of the first passed without him noticing, and Sokka suddenly found himself confronted by just how much he had to get ready, and how little time he had to do it in.  
  
So he did what he always did in situations like this, and wrote down every single thing he had to do, along with exactly as much time he was allowing himself to complete them. In different-coloured ink. If a task well-begun was half done, Sokka tackled problems hoping that one day he would work how to begin a task so amazingly well it would just roll over and complete itself out of deference to his incredibly detailed charts.  
  
He'd planned it out so he would have just enough time to get everything sorted, provided everything went according to plan.  
  
This was, he would concede later, an extraordinarily stupid proviso.  
  
"Is there nowhere on this stupid island to buy shoes?" 

–

Azula walked back from the theatre, counting the footsteps.

When she got back to the house, she nodded to herself. Excellent. She'd got it down consistently.  
  
Now that was sorted, she just had to go practice laughing in the mirror for a while. She felt she nearly had it sounding natural and not terrifying by now.  
  
It was amazing what a little practice could do.

–

 “Seriously! I know there's a lot of beaches, but some people on this island do wear shoes! Like that guy! Look at that guy, _he's_ wearing shoes!” 

–

 It wasn't until Mai let him in on some new information that Zuko understood what exactly had been going on with his sister in the past few days.

“She's got a date with that Water Tribe guy with the hair.”

Zuko's face slackened. “Why did you think I wanted to know that.”

Mai shrugged. “This is the new reality we have to deal with. It won't do any good to pretend it's not going to happen. If it helps,” she added, in a conciliatory tone, “I'm not any happier about it than you are.”

Zuko sighed. “At least it seems to be keeping her busy, I guess.”

Mai shrugged. “I guess.”

  
–

 He had to get ready. First up: research. He was pretty sure that if he spent the whole show asking what was going on, she'd realise he didn't actually know anything. So he had to learn all about this play, and fast.  
  
Unfortunately, his resources were basically limited to Katara.  
  
"Hey, Katara, you know anything about Avatar Roku?"

–

One evening, about three days after the betrothal incident, Katara was sitting in their rented quarters, reading the book she was trying to finish before they went back home, when her brother walked out of the bathroom, furtive guilt scrawled across his face.  
  
Normally, she would have ignored him entirely, but this time was special.  After all, it was almost the first time she had seen him in three days.  When he hadn't been badgering her about long-dead historical figures that she barely knew anything about, he'd been spending all his time and, as far as she could tell, most of his money, out in the town.  
  
"Okay, I'm gonna be out tonight, so don't wait up," he slurred, trying to fit the whole sentence into the time it took him to cross the room, aiming to be out the door before the full stop hit.  Unfortunately for him, Katara was quicker.  She closed the book, and gave him her full attention, something she knew would worry him.  
  
"Oh?" she inquired, all innocent curiosity.  "Where are you going?"  
  
"Oh, uh, just... Out.  To ...see a play," he realised, waving a ticket as proof.  
  
A play?  Well, she supposed it could be true.  After all, if nothing else, The Poetry Incident was a reminder that Sokka did occasionally take an interest in that kind of thing.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
Sokka glanced at the slip in his hand.  "... _The Tragickal Romanse Of The Avatar Roku And Fire Lord Sozin_ ", he read off the ticket.

“Oh, sounds neat,” Katara nodded. “Mind if I tag along?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean, they sold out all their tickets, so sorry, maybe next time?”

Katara shook her head. It was all starting to fall into place. The sneaking around, the constant twitching, the entirely different wardrobe (not including his shoes)... there was only one explanation.

“You have a date, don't you,” she sighed, resignedly.

“No! No that's ridiculous yeah okay.”

Katara sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where did you even find time to meet someone? Was it at the beach?”

Oddly enough, he looked suddenly relieved, and dived on the answer. “Yes! Yeah, it was at the beach.”

“No.” Hang on. It was all starting to make sense now. “This is why you were being so weird that morning, wasn't it?” she asked, triumphantly. “You knew they were gonna be there, weren't you?” She took her brother's horrified silence as confirmation. “Is it the pink one?”

“What? No!”

“Oh. Shame. I liked her. Wait,” her brow furrowed as she mentally ticked off the remaining members of Prince Zuko's entourage. “It's not the gloomy one? Because I think she has a boyfriend already.”

“No! No it is not the one with all the knives.”

“Okay- wait, knives? She has knives?”

“Yeah we got talking. Anyway it's not her, it's-”

“The Lieutenant?”

“Okay now you're just making fun of me. It's-”

“Oh spirits you're going on a date with the Princess.”

“Yes! And don't say it like that! Why'd you say it like that?”

Katara sighed. She would have definitely preferred it to be the pink one. “She didn't listen to my speech.”

Sokka's face drained of colour. “You did your speech? On Azula?”

“Well she asked!” Katara retorted, defensively.

“Oh La she's going to think my family's all weird, _please_ tell me you didn't get to the bit about how the Fire Nation was stupid and wrong, I _told_ you that wouldn't go down well.”

“Oh relax. I'm pretty sure she'd stopped listening by that point.”

Suddenly, the candle in the corner sparked six, and Sokka nearly leapt into the air.

“Is that the time? I gotta go have a nice evening don't wait up bye!”

In the aftermath of his escape, Katara sighed, and picked up her book again. Well, at least he was having a good time.

–

 At _precisely_ six-thirty, Azula strolled unconcernedly into the foyer of the theatre, exactly as she had planned to. Sokka, as she had suspected would be the case, was already there, hovering by a column. As his eyes met hers, he pushed off from the column, and picked his way towards her.

He looked different, she noted, with a strange thrill of satisfaction. He'd changed his clothes, and, she noted- as he arrived at her side, with a hurried “hi”- put on some kind of scent, possibly to compensate for his unfortunately ordinary shoes.  
  
He looked good in red, she decided.

“Shall we?” she nodded, smoothly directing him towards the balcony seating.

–

 The story, as best he was able to figure out, was a romance, probably between the Fire Lord Sozin and the Avatar Roku. That much he'd been able to get from the title, but the actual play was proving difficult going. Partly because everyone was talking in a kind of rough approximation of how they thought people from a hundred years ago might have talked, partly because the guy playing Young Roku kept mumbling into his fake beard, but mostly because he was finding it really hard to concentrate on the play when Azula was sitting right next to him, leaning back and smirking at the actors through lidded eyes. It was just a little entirely more enthralling than the entire performance.

–

           “ _My Lord, mark well_

_These lands across the sea_

_remain unclaimed, except in name._

_What doom shall fall on we who wait_

_Bowing down to children yet unborn?”_

 A second courtier chimed in, seemingly convinced that the best way to convey unchecked expansionist ambition was by hissing like a python.

_“Noble Lord, your people cry for action._

_The Kings of Dirt spit and sneer and still you do not answer_

_In a manner befitting your position.”_

 Finally, Sozin stirred, waving a hand for silence.

_“Enough. When I wish your wise counsel_

_I shall inform you. Leave me to my thoughts.”_

 Now came the part of the plot that, frankly, Azula had always had something of a problem with. Sozin's soliloquy was famous, and she supposed the poetry was nice enough, although she was hardly a great judge. It was just the message she found a little hard to swallow.

  _“They bow and scrape and pour their poison in my ear_

_And yet I cannot help but wonder. The vision turns and turns_

_A sight I had not dared to see before. Sozin, two crowns upon his brow_

_Lord of Fire and Stone as one. Half the world united under me_

_And would there not be space for all?”_

 The actor began to attempt what he might have read somewhere was called 'intensity', although it was rather spoiled by the fact that, as far as he was concerned, it began and ended at 'shouting while waving his arms'.

 

_“And what of these advisers, my pedallers of honey'd whispers?_

_Their words are thick as smoke, yet might not it be_

_That truth can spring from even such a poisoned tongue?_

_A vision, before my eyes, of serried ranks, delivered 'cross the seas_

_Into a desolate land, that it might be made fit for citizens_

_To ply their trades, with naught to fear from sword or stone.”_

He stopped, so abruptly she almost wondered if he had forgotten his lines, and paced across the stage. She took the moment to steal a glance at Sokka. He was utterly enthralled, one hand forgotten, holding a bunch of fire flakes halfway to his open mouth. She took the opportunity to relieve him of them, and smirked at the comical way he glared at her.

_“But a shadow is cast across my heart, for the one who holds most claim_

_O'er it, would surely be angered by the thoughts that so consume my mind._

_Would that he were just a man, not set into his doom as guardian of the world_

_He might be brought to understanding.”_

–

 Based purely on the source text, those with a mind to compiling such lists inevitably ranked this kiss as one of the greatest ever to be written into a theatrical performance. Azula had to grudgingly admit that this production had done a fair job- the red and ash-grey ribbons dancing in the air, the silken billowing fire rippling out from the volcano in the distance, it was all very impressive, as long as you ignored the way Sozin's wig was clearly falling off.

–

 The audience spilled out into the still summer night, voices raised in rabble as they dissipated into the dark. As she steered the two of them onto the path back to the house, Sokka summed up what Azula felt to be the general sentiment of the crowd.

 “Eh, the effects were nice.”

“Yes, I suppose I should have warned you, but the Ember Island Players are notoriously terrible.”

Sokka shrugged. “I've listened to Bato read poetry, nothing's as bad as that.”

That reference meant nothing to Azula, but the evening had been going remarkably well so far, and she wasn't about to risk that on admitting that she didn't understand a throwaway comment.

Too late, she wondered if she should have deployed her entirely natural laugh.

–

Awkward silence blossomed, and Sokka inwardly berated himself. He should have _realised_ that she wouldn't know who Bato was. His first instinct was to explain, but stopped himself short.

It was times like this when he wished he _actually_ knew how to talk to people.

 

–

After a moment, a thought appeared to come to him, and he broke the silence.

“Wait, something's been bothering me.”

“Oh?” Azula prompted, silently thankful that he had found a way to puncture the moment.

“...Where did _you_ come from? I mean, didn't Sozin ever get married?”

Azula sighed. Everyone asked that, sooner or later.

“My great-grandmother was apparently not a very interesting woman. She spent most of her time in the palace, practising embroidery.” She risked a glance in his direction, hoping that wouldn't give the game away.

“...Was she... _good_ at embroidery?” he ventured, neutrally.

“No,” she replied, with an easy shrug. “We have whole rooms of her work, in storerooms. It's dreadful stuff. Presumably she thought she needed the practise. It's tragic, really.” She thought she could see his shoulders start to gently shake, and pressed on. “Grandfather finds a use for them, though. He gives them as presents to people who have upset him.”

And Sokka couldn't hide the sudden choke of laughter, which was definitely a win in her eyes.

–

“Well, here we are,” Azula stated, briskly, if entirely unnecessarily, as they arrived at the threshold to the house.

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded, scratching the back of his head. Azula fought the urge to awkwardly cough. “I just- I had a really great time tonight, and-” there was only one acceptable way to end his sentence, and so Azula threw caution entirely to the wind, grabbed him by his ears, and kissed him.

 One hand slid down, landing on his shoulder and draping over his back, the other travelled to the nape of his neck, exploring the strange feeling of his cropped hair, stiff and bristly, as she committed this moment to heart, learning it like a passage; the feel of his lips on hers, the sudden pressure of his arms around her shoulders, the scent of his perfume, much stronger now he was so close, the sound of his surprise transforming into pleasure. This was a moment she was determined to preserve.

–

 Sokka, for his part, was feeling like someone had replaced his brain with fireworks.


	7. To Lose Your Place In Time

Zuko would have given absolutely anything to be anywhere but right here, right now.

"Uh... is your sister in?"

"Yeah", he grunted, and stared at his shoes hard enough that he could almost imagine there was nothing else in the entire world.

The Water Tribes boy coughed, shattering the fantasy.  Zuko stubbornly sank further into his chair.

"...So... Could you... Let her know I've arrived?"

The only way this could possibly be worse would be-

"Sokka!  Just one moment," Azula's voice floated down the stairs, thick and gloating.  Zuko flinched.  It was his own stupid fault he was in this situation, really.  He'd just left it too late to run away.

The seconds dragged on, and Zuko spent them wishing he was holding a book, while trying not to listen to Sokka's awkward shuffling as he rebalanced and readjusted the ostentatious bouquet of flowers held in the crook of his arm.

Zuko had just screwed up the nerve to mumble some excuse and flee for the safety of the hallway, when the measured click of heels on wood announced Azula's arrival in the room. She flashed a lightning-smirk at Zuko, frozen halfway up from his chair, and swept past him, preposterously effusive at the sight of the flowers.

“Oh, they're _wonderful_ ,” she gushed, taking an exaggerated sniff, while Sokka mumbled incoherently and scratched at the back of his head. Just as Zuko was coming to the conclusion that it was worth making a break for it while she was distracted with her performance, Azula turned to face him, and gave him the widest, most incongruously terrifying smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Zuzu, look after these, would you?” she asked, sickly saccharine, thrusting the bouquet into his arms. “Put them in some water. And I'll be back late, so don't wait up.”

And then they were gone, and Zuko was left with an armful of flowers and the terrible feeling that, although that had probably been the most awkward minute of his life thus far, that record was not going to stand for very long.

  
-  
  


“Well,” Azula said, brightly, and Zuko sank deeper into his chair. “It _has_ been a week, hasn't it?”

"Hn."

"Ty Lee managed to break her record for the number of parties she got invited to in one evening, Mai... well, who knows what Mai's been up to, I've...  caught up on my theatre," she smirked, and Zuko shuddered.  "And you failed to get married.  You must be pleased."

"What do you want?" he grunted, shifting away from her.

"I was wondering, however," she continued, talking to the air two feet above his head, as though he hadn't spoken at all, "what you intend to tell Father."

Zuko went still.

"After all," she continued, horribly pleased with herself, "he did ask me, before we left, if I could prevent you from causing _embarrassment_ for everyone.  Unfortunately, it seems as though there was only so much I could do."  She paused for a breath, head cocked in curiosity, but no answer was forthcoming.  So she continued, her voice full of faux-commiseration.  "I'll leave you to think about it, then.  After all, I'm sure Father will understand, if you phrase it properly."

Zuko might have been a statue, if not for the white grip of his hands on the rests of the seat.  After a moment of silent observation, Azula turned lightly on her heel, and strolled out of the room, where she almost walked straight into the lurking figure that had been listening at the door.

  
-

Oh that was _it_. Mai had finally, definitely, _had enough_. Moving faster than thought, she roughly grabbed the Princess by the arm, and dragged her into the receiving room- Azula only going along with it through sheer stunned incomprehension- before deliberately settling in the doorway, blocking Azula off from the rest of the house.

The last five seconds belatedly filtered their way through Azula's brain, and her face began to twist in disgust. “How _dare_ you-”

“Shut up,” Mai snapped, knuckles tightening around the hilt of her insurance policy, still hidden in her sleeve. “Shut up. I've been quiet. I've not said _anything_. I just figured it wasn't any of my business. Well it _is_ my business now, so you had better have some _answers_.” The words tumbled out of her like she wasn't sure she was going to make it to the end of the sentence.

“Just what do you-”

“What, _exactly_ , do you think you're doing?”

Azula blinked. “...What?”

“I'd have thought you'd recognise that he gets enough of it from Daddy Dearest without _you_ joining in.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Azula retorted, flat and colourless.

“Of course you don't,” Mai spat, flying, buoyed up by fury, somewhere beyond fear.

“If you're talking about the accident-”

“The accident.” Mai's breathing levelled, and the mist lifted. In its place was cold, utter certainty. “The _accident_.  Are you serious?  Don't tell me you actually think that's what happened."

Azula, to Mai's silent shock, looked harried. “Why would I not?”

“Answer the question.” Pushing her luck, Mai took a step forward, and Azula, not seeming to realise it herself, took a step back. “Do you believe it?  I've thought a lot of things of you, Princess, but I'd have never guessed you were that _stupid_ -"

Too late, Mai realised she'd backed a firebender into a corner. Historically, this had not been a great idea. She could already see Azula's shoulders setting. Her knuckles whitened on the hilt of the knife.

And all of a sudden, there was a tap on the window.

“could someone let me in?”

Ty Lee's voice, muffled through the glass, cut across the room. Mai's eye twitched.

“only it doesn't open from this side”

She breathed in, not daring to blink.

“and I think I'm slipping”

Mai snapped, stamping over to the window, taking her eyes off the princess for only as long as it took to work the latch, head swivelling back the second Ty Lee unfolded into the room, back to-

To the place where Azula had been standing.

  
–

  
It was just beginning to rain when the door opened. Sokka looked up, as Azula strode into the room, water clinging lightly to her hair and shoulders. A question died on his tongue as he saw the look on her face, and he simply slid over, making room for her on the sofa.

“Hi,” he said, simply, as she accepted the offer, with as bad grace as she could project with practical silence. After a moment, he turned back to what he had been doing before.

“See, when I was on Kyoshi Island, there was this guy here, visiting, I guess, some kind of inventor, and we got to talking.  I had this idea, you see,” he began, after a few moments, still focused on the crude diagram in front of him. “Hot air rises, right? Hold a bit of cloth above a bonfire and it kind of flaps around, yeah? So we thought, how about-”

“Do you always have to talk?” Azula groused, sighing.

Sokka shrugged. “No,” he replied, easily.

“Good,” she replied, turning to prop herself up against his shoulder. Sokka turned back to his scribbling, apparently entirely at ease with his place in the universe.

  
–

Azula was starting to wonder if she was trying to win some kind of award for saying the worst possible things at the worst possible times.

  
–

  
The next morning, Katara stumbled through the living room, on her way to breakfast, when the sudden sight of something completely unexpected sent her turning on her heel and marching back in the direction of the bedrooms, where she nearly collided with her brother.

“Sokka,” she whispered, urgently, as he regained his balance. “Why is Princess Azula sleeping on the couch?”

He shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  
–

Zuko was deeply confused. It had been three days before Azula came back to the house- before she was _seen_ again at the house, he corrected himself, because she had just reappeared after three days, sitting at the breakfast table as though nothing had happened. She seemed pretty content to act like she hadn't been missing long enough that Ty Lee had been on the verge of organising a search party.

Seemed. The walls were pretty thin in this house, and all the rooms were closer together than any of them were used to. He had a feeling that Azula assumed he slept more, and deeper, than he actually did.

And on top of all that- she'd left him alone. Whatever Mai had said had _worked_. Azula hadn't exchanged more than a word with him in nearly a week. It was... alien. She _always_ found a way to pry, to needle, to get under his skin in the worst way. Except now she wasn't. She wasn't doing _anything_. She'd been out a lot. She was out tonight, he knew that much.

He didn't understand, and he didn't know what to make of it. So he pushed it aside, and tried to concentrate on the _other_ problem.

Because she'd been right. Father was going to be furious. And he didn't know what to do.

The fear was a lead weight at the base of his chest, heavy and painful- the thought that soon, no matter how long he tried to put it off, he would have to back to the palace and tell Ozai that he hadn't done what he'd been told-

Zuko counted good days by how often he could stand to look at himself in the mirror.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp tapping at the door. Zuko blinked. There was only one person who knocked. On the door, anyway. Ty Lee was at least polite in her baffling idiosyncrasy.

“Come in, Lieutenant."

Jee opened the door, bowing, and presenting a slip of paper. “A messenger-hawk arrived, Prince Zuko. From the palace.”

Zuko accepted it without a word.

It was not a very long message.

  
–  
  


Sokka gestured with his cup, and tried to get her to raise a smile. Honestly, he was a little worried. Just a tiny bit. Nothing major, just the fact that she hadn't said more than three consecutive words this whole evening was slightly making him panic and oh Spirits was it him, had he done something or said something or had she just suddenly noticed that he wasn't as interesting as he was pretending to be- _no_. Breathe. Stay calm. Come up with a plan, hopefully before dessert arrived.

The way he saw it, he had two options. Either he could push his plate away, reach across the table, take her hand, stare soulfully into her eyes, and ask, voice trembling with concern, _seriously what's going on, you're being really weird_ , which was not happening, for any number of reasons, or, and this was really the only sensible option, he could bust out the Secret Anecdote, the one he'd been saving for a special occasion.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I got two fish-hooks stuck in my thumb?”

 

–

Of all the ways Zuko would have thought to look for Azula, 'follow the laughing' would not have been one of them. Still, as he shoved his way through the crowded restaurant, towards the booth, tucked away in a secluded corner, it did at least mean she was easy to find.

He found the two of them sitting easily at the table, Sokka's hands midway through miming a story, Azula's mouth twisted in a smile. Neither of them had noticed him yet, so he cleared his throat.

Azula turned, and the colour drained out of her face, her jaw locking into a mask of embarrassed anger, and even now, though he regretted it the moment the thought darted through his head, Zuko couldn't help but be bitterly pleased that she finally knew how it felt.

Sokka waved him away without looking. “Everything's fine, thanks, and could we get some more water? Thanks. Oh,” he finished, as he actually turned to look at Zuko. Confusion passed across his brow like a shadow, and his eyes flicked between the two siblings, trying in vain to get a grip on what was going on.

“ _Well_ ,” Azula spat out, jerking Zuko back into the moment.

Zuko slowly exhaled, feeling the clouds in his head start to unravel. “Azula. We have to go. We've been called back to the Palace.”

“Why? What's going-”

“Grandfather's dead.”


	8. In Walks Her Daddy Standing Six Foot Four

The burial rituals of the Fire Nation are straightforward, but inflexible.  The body must be cremated under a clear sky, the body must not be left unattended at any time, and, perhaps as an inevitable result of these two traditions, the funeral and subsequent cremation must take place no more than three days after death.  
  
This tradition has often meant that foreign dignitaries are noticeably unable to attend an event as diplomatically significant as the cremation and subsequent coronation of the Fire Lord, and, on more than one occasion, has led to the general practice of classing anyone within travelling distance that could remember how to bow properly as a diplomat.  
  
It was for this reason that Zuko and Azula's retinue was two larger on their return journey.

–

The boat was small, but what it lacked in size it overcompensated for in ornamentation.  It looked for all the world as though the greatest artist in history had been given the task of making what amounted to little more than a box on a raft embody the word _palatial_.  Every inch was covered in lacquer, it dripped ornamentation from every knot, the rear deck was the site of a full set of chairs and table, the central pagoda was stuffed with silk and cushions and strange bubbling glass contraptions, and the foredeck’s main attraction was the sight of the trained turtle-seal, lashed to the boat with long ropes, and serving as the sole method of propulsion.  The entire experience was designed solely to impress, seven decks of ostentatiousness condensed into a barge.  
  
Katara was not impressed.  Something with a sharp hull and a sail would make the journey in half the time.  In fact, she was beginning to suspect that she could construct a fully-functioning sail out of the various silk curtains and bits of wood in enough time for it to make a noticeable dent in the length of the journey.  
  
She smirked at the thought, and pushed off the railing, about to go look for Sokka so she could repeat it at him, before she remembered why she couldn’t do that.  
  
The _other_ reason why this journey was taking forever.  This boat had been small enough to begin with, before Katara had had to start mentally walling entire sections of it off, for the sake of her continued sanity.  
  
The bow had been the first to go, because that was where Princess Azula had been persuaded to settle, after an extended period of Sokka following her around with sad eyes until she paid attention to him. The aft, similarly, because that was where Mai had steered Prince Zuko, possibly, Katara thought, on the basis that it was the furthest place from Princess Azula without at least one of them being hurled overboard.  
  
Katara was just about resigned to staying stuck the railing for the duration of the voyage, when  she idly glanced up, and saw a foot, dangling off the edge of the roof of the pagoda.

Either there was someone sitting up there, or someone had done a halfway terrible job of hiding a body.  Either way, it had to be more interesting than staying here.

–

Ty Lee looked up at the sound of the Water Tribes girl (… _Katara_ , that’s right) scrabbling up onto the roof.  Leaning forward, Ty Lee offered a hand, which was gratefully accepted.  
  
Katara flopped down on the canopy next to her, and nodded. “Hi.”  
  
“Hi!” she replied, and leaned back, momentarily enthralled in the flight of a pack of small grey sea birds.

–

Katara looked askance at the girl, who was caught up reading the future in the way the petrels hovered, or whatever it was she thought was happening.  
  
“It's nice up here,” she said, for the sake of conversation.  
  
“Yeah,” Ty Lee replied, still charmed by the birds. “I've always liked sitting up on places like this. It's quiet.” She blinked, and cocked her head, turning her sentence over in her mind. “Not that loud is bad!” she qualified. “Just, not all the time. Besides, sometimes it's better to be out of the way when-” her face locked and she all but clapped her hand across her mouth. It didn't matter. Katara could guess the rest of the sentence.  
  
Katara sighed, internally.  She'd told herself it wasn't any of her business, but that was before she'd been trapped on this ridiculous boat with them for the past two hours.  They'd _made_ it her business, and if they didn't like it, then they should have thought of that first.  
  
"So... what's up with those two?"  
  
"Hm?" Ty Lee asked, as if she didn't know what Katara could mean.  
  
"The Princess and... _Mai_."  
  
"Oh."  And there was a flicker of something, but before Katara could be sure she hadn't just imagined it, it was gone.  "They don't always get along."  
  
Katara stared at her, but apparently the girl was serious.  
  
" _Really_."

–

Sokka didn't mean to brag, but he had disembarked from a lot of boats in his time. He could almost describe it as a _core activity_. Pretty much everything he had ever done that wasn't either staying at home or wandering off into the tundra with a spear and a burning desire to eat real food for a change was guaranteed to, at some point, involve getting off a boat. It was as inevitable as the dawn, and he'd experienced it a lot more often.  
  
Safe to say, he'd grown accustomed to certain features, and now, as this weird turtle-seal-boat pulled in to harbour, he was floundering. He kept waiting for someone to hand him a guy rope.  
  
The swirling mass of attendants and bodyguards and some guy in the back with what Sokka swore was a tsungi horn was actually not all that surprising- it was pretty expected for there to be at least a little excitement when a boat docked- but it was all weirdly _organised_. Nobody was shouting, nobody was slapping anyone on the back (privately, Sokka thought this was probably smart; anyone slapping Azula on the back would almost certainly die, and the way Zuko looked right now he'd probably go shoes over hair right into the harbour), nobody seemed _excited_.  
  
He was beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that he had absolutely no idea what was going on. So he did really the only thing he could do, and stuck close to Azula like he was auditioning to be her shadow. She seemed to know what was going on.

–

Katara had been whisked away two corridors back, to go get measured for funeral clothes with nothing but the vague assertion that they were coming for _him_ next, his sense of direction had completely abandoned him, and Mai kept _muttering_ at Zuko, too low for Sokka to hear, and frankly it was starting to creep him out. Surely she had to breathe at some point. All in all, what he needed was a sit down and maybe a long bath. What he actually _had_ was an unspecified amount of time waiting in this... hall, of some kind, in the palace, with Azula (awesome, he had no complaints about that), her brother (who was kind of freaking him out, what with all the shaking and the looking at the floor, he had no idea what was going on there), and Mai (who, he was pretty sure he had already established, would not stop quietly muttering).  
  
So, to distract himself, he started talking.  
  
“So... nice place you got here.”  
  
Azula nodded, in acknowledgement of the compliment.  
  
“It's... uh... big. I mean, I'm pretty sure you could fit my home in, maybe this room.” For a panicked second, he worried that he had revealed himself as some kind of uncultured hick, which, to be fair, he was pretty sure he technically was. Azula had just smiled a little, though, so that was safe? Was that good? He was still working on figuring out if that was good.  
  
“I mean, mostly we kind of live outdoors, so there's really not much point in having a big place. Not that your place isn't nice, I mean, I've said that already, did I say that already? But I mean, there's a lot you've got to do every day outdoors, if you want to, you know, live. Besides, it's hard to get to two storeys when your building materials are whalebones and snow-”  
  
Sokka was very suddenly aware that he was the only person in the room still standing.  Azula and Zuko had dropped to their knees, and Mai had silently disappeared.

Ozai’s gaze had swept across them like a scythe.  Five long seconds too late, Sokka turned around.

Was he supposed to bow?  Bowing was the thing, right?  Or was that Earth Kingdom?  No, wait, bowing was Earth Kingdom, but a bow just from the hip straight down, that was right?  Or was that a Kyoshi Island thing?  Yeah, no- it was a bow if you were equals not at war, it was a- crap.  He was supposed to be kneeling.  Or was he?  He wasn’t a citizen, he was a foreign dignitary, yeah!  That was it!  The important thing was to never ever… show your back to the… ah.

In mounting panic, Sokka stuck out his hand, on general principles.  Ozai’s brow furrowed like he’d asked for a glass of water and been presented with a dead rat on a stick.  The hand was withdrawn, and Sokka, on the mistaken basis that he couldn’t do any worse, gave a little wave instead.

“Hi,” he squeaked.

Ozai inclined his head a fraction.  “…You must be …Sohka.”

Even Sokka could see that correcting his pronunciation would be a poor decision.  “Yessir.”

“Only son of High Chief Hakoda, and heir to his title.”

“Well not necessarily, I mean it’s not impossible but High Chieftanship tends to get passed around between the tribes every generation or so and since Gran-Gran’s not even from the South it’d be rude to keep it in my family any longer than it has been already and Yutu’s son from the East Coast has already been to Ba Sing Se and knows how much smoked fish is worth and has never, _ever_ said ‘hi’ to a Fire Nation Prince, so it’s probably going to be him” was what Sokka did not say, proving that, against all current evidence, he did have a sense of self-preservation.

“Sir,” he ventured, sticking to a winning formula.

Ozai stared unblinking for five seconds too long, before abruptly dismissing Sokka, who had started to shuffle from one foot to the other, as something of no consequence.  Instead, he turned his attentions to the prostrated figure of his daughter, who was still and silent as a porcelain statue.  
  
This, at least, appeared not to discombobulate him.  
  
"Azula," he intoned.  "We shall speak later."  Her only response was to somehow move into an even deeper bow, which seemed to be satisfactory.  Sokka tried very hard not to think about his own father.  Everything had to be more complicated in the Fire Nation, probably.  This was almost certainly totally normal and it wasn't freaking him out one bit to see Azula acting so utterly subservient, not at all.  
  
Ozai spared one more glance at the assembled company, and then he was gone, as suddenly as he had arrived.  
  
Zuko, bloodless and shaking, eyes still fixed on the ground, might have been comforted to know that his father had not appeared to notice he was in the room at all.

–

"Arms out," the seamstress ordered, brandishing measuring tape.  Thoroughly cowed by this point, Sokka no longer offered any resistance, and meekly did as he was told.  
  
To preserve his dignity as he was poked and prodded, he turned his attention back to Azula, who was lounging in the corner of the room, clearly bored.  
  
"So... your Dad seems ...nice," he finished, inaccurately.  
  
Azula raised an eyebrow.  "How do you mean?"  
  
He hadn't planned on that.  "You know... really... personable," he scrambled, unconsciously reaching to scratch the back of his head, and earning a cautionary jab with a pin for his troubles.  
  
"Arms _out_."  
  
Azula shrugged.  "He's a great man."  
  
"Sure," he replied, which turned out to be a mistake.  
  
“What do you mean by _that_?”  
  
He shrugged. “Ow. I mean, I'm sure he is.”  
  
She frowned at him for a moment, before settling back. “Good.”

–

 

As they commended his father's shell to Agni, he couldn't help but ruminate on their hypocrisy. He knew, without the merest flicker of doubt, that not one of the crowded mass of white before him had had their fortunes ruined with the long-overdue passing of his royal father. They bowed their heads and mouthed the words and looked to his brother for their salvation.  
  
This suited his purposes _exactly_.  
  
To pass the time, his gaze dragged across the front row of dignitaries before him. Five he knew to be craven, four would leave the capital tonight. Seven had been promised gold, one a new command. Three had been promised his daughter.  
  
The thought crossed his mind that he might even consider giving her to one of them, depending on if they performed as they promised. The surge of magnanimity tugged his face into a smirk.  
  
Ozai dreamed in steel, and he had seen the shape of the future. Given the circumstances, he couldn't help but feel optimistic.


	9. When a Mirror Speaks

After the ceremony was over, Azula retreated to her chambers as quickly as was not obviously rude. She dragged Sokka along with her, because, if anyone had asked her, she didn't dare imagine what would happen if he were left unsupervised (or worse, supervised only by Ty Lee) at a sombre gathering of the most important people in the Fire Nation. Any ulterior motives were absolutely not anyone else's business.  
  
Sokka flopped onto the long sofa, carelessly creasing his funeral clothes, and stared unseeing at the ceiling.  
  
"You okay?", he asked, after a while, rolling his head back to look at her upside-down.  
  
Azula sighed, a long low breath.  "We all knew it was only a matter of time.  He was very old."  An old memory stirred.  "I never understood why Mother bothered," she added to herself, more bitterly than she meant, and hoped he wouldn't pick up on it.  
  
"Huh?" he asked, sitting up.  Of course.  
  
Azula waved her hand, attempting to airily indicate that it was something of no consequence.  "My mother.  She was banished."  Well, not exactly, but it would take too long to explain.  "They said she had attempted to murder Grandfather."  
  
Sokka blinked in confusion.  "Why?"  
  
Azula shrugged.  "Who knows?  She certainly didn't stay long enough to explain herself."  And that didn't sound angry at all.  
  
Sokka's brow furrowed around pieces of the story that even she could see didn't fit.  
  
"I thought you said she was banished-"  
  
"Look," Azula snapped.  "One morning I woke up and she was gone.  They said she had tried to kill the Fire Lord, and she had been banished.  There, now you know just as much as I do."  
  
He wasn't letting it go.  "Who told you all-"  
  
"Father did," she replied, in a tone that firmly indicated that the matter was closed.  Sighing, she flopped back, and glared at the ceiling.  "I don't see why you're so interested, anyway."  
  
"Sorry, it's just... I don't know.  My mom died when I was a kid so... I don't know.  I guess it must be weird to know she's just... out there, somewhere."  
  
"Oh.  I'm sorry."  
  
He shrugged.  "'S okay.  It was a long time ago."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"A fever.  She just burned up from the inside.  There was nothing anyone could do," he recited, eyes fixed on nothing.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah."  Abruptly, he shook his head, jolting out of us reverie.  "Okay, this is officially too grim."  He suddenly grinned, and if it didn't quite match his eyes, Azula tactfully didn't notice.  "What you say we go see if there's anything to do in this city?  I don't know about you, but I could use a distraction."  
  
Azula nodded, thinking it over.  It was unlikely that they would be missed, after all.  
  
"Alright."  


* * *

 

Azula led them through the gardens, to avoid the throng of dignitaries that still milled around the palace, waiting their turn to grovel before the new Fire Lord. Azula didn't disapprove of grovelling, at least on general principles, but it did tend to take up a great deal of time, and had a tendency to get in the way of a quick exit.  
  
Unfortunately, their quieter route led them right into another obstacle. Zuko was in the garden, and he wasn't alone.  
  
Zuko was sitting on a bench, staring at his shoes, while a wizened monk with the tattoos of a master airbender was leaning lightly on a stick and trying to make conversation.  
  
“Like I said, if you ever need to-” he looked up, suddenly distracted, and his lined face broke into an absurd smile. “Hey, Azula! There's my favourite fake great-grand-daughter!”  
  
“Aang.” Azula gave the Avatar a brittle smile.  
  
“How long has it been? You must be twice as tall as when I last saw you!”  
  
Azula sighed, slightly. “That is how time works, yes.” Zuko, Azula was bizarrely relieved to note, was taking the Avatar's brief moment of distraction to make a stealthy escape.  
  
“Ha! As far as _you_ know, anyway.” He grinned. “And who's your friend?”  
  
Sokka coughed. “Uh... hi, Mighty Avatar, sir? My name's Sokka, and-”  
  
“Sokka, Sokka- wait a minute. Hakoda's boy?”  
  
“Uh, yep? Yep, that's me.”  
  
“Well, it's nice to meet you, finally. You're all he talks about, you know.”  
  
“Oh?” Sokka squeaked, but Aang was suddenly distracted, and the bottom dropped out of Azula's stomach when she saw the look on his face.  
  
“Wait, wait, I heard something about a marriage, but I thought- are you two... you _are,_ aren't you?” Azula deliberately levelled her breathing as Sokka started glowing. “Don't worry,” he continued, mock-scandalised, “I won't tell anyone.”

* * *

  
The palanquin had confused him, and when Azula had asked him how he'd expected to get around outside the palace, he'd had a moment of blind panic and just said “walking?”, which, yes, had made him sound like a complete moron, but amazingly she'd just smiled a little and rolled her eyes and he was _so good_ at this.  
  
Now, if only he could figure out what he was doing right, he'd be laughing.

* * *

  


“So, I'd never actually met the Avatar before,” Sokka said, distracting himself from the disappointing realisation that a stack of cushions was actually not as comfortable to sit on as it looked. “He seemed... excited.” He nudged her shin lightly with the toe of his foot. “Fake great-grand-daughter?”  
  
Azula sighed. “Zuko and I are descended from both Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku.”  
  
“Oh.” He thought about this for a moment. “...Wait a minute, weren't they both-”  
  
“It will surprise you to learn that not only did Sozin marry, but Roku did as well. They both had children.”  
  
“Oh. Was I just not paying attention, because they were not in the play _at all_.”  
  
Azula shrugged. “They don't make it into the abridged versions of the script.”  
  
“So, one side of your family comes from Avatar Roku? Because that's pretty neat.”  
  
“Yes.” She scowled, an unasked-for memory bubbling to the surface. “My mother's side.”

 

* * *

  


Sokka flinched inwardly, because he'd managed to do it _again_ , and it would be so much better if she got angry or huffy or even went all _I-don't-wanna-talk-about-it_ , but every time he put his foot in his mouth and brought up her Mom she just looked _sad_ and kind of confused, like she didn't know why she was looking sad and it was making a small part of him want to curl up and die.  
  
He could still fix this.  
  
“So,” he said, probably slightly too loud, “where're we headed?”  
  
That seemed to do the trick. Her head jolted up slightly, and her face curled into a smirk.  
  
“A training ground. It's more secluded than the ones in the palace, and I thought I could use someone to practise on.”  
  
“Oh okay. And you meant _with_ , right?” he asked, but couldn't repress a grin, because hey, it looked like she was starting to enjoy herself again, and that was good, right?

  


* * *

  


“Okay,” Sokka wheezed, bent almost double, “whatever I did, I'm pretty sure you've got me back for it, okay?”  
  
Azula idly checked her nails.  
  
“But that thing, where you did that thing? You know, with the flipping? That was _amazing_ , how did you do that? You have got to show me how to do that.”  
  
Azula felt herself preening, just a little. “Oh, it's very simple, really. Your first step is to start when you're six years old-”  
  
“Okay, new plan, can we focus on my running away? I'm getting the feeling running away might be my strong suit here.”  
  
Azula shrugged. “You can't run forever.”  
  
“Are you sure? Because I'm starting to think that-”  
  
“No, I mean you, specifically.” It was mean, but he was just so _fun_ when he was indignant. He practically inflated.  
  
“Oh, _ouch_. You are a cruel, cruel lady. Just 'cause of that,” he said, reaching behind his back, “I'm gonna have to bring out _this_!”  
  
He flourished the boomerang with obvious triumph. Azula blinked, once, cast around for something snide, and found her mind utterly blank.  
  
“....You were carrying that to the _funeral_?”  
  
Sokka looked momentarily embarrassed. “I-”  
  
“Don't say a word about seals.” Sokka's mouth closed instantly.

  


* * *

  


Five rounds later, and inspiration struck.  This time, when he went down- a foot snaked between his legs and an elbow knocked into his sternum- he grabbed at an armful of shirt, because if he was going to fall then _she was too_.  
  
It didn’t quite go as planned.  A complicated motion later, and Sokka was flat on his back, Azula was lazily kneeling on his chest, one hand delicately holding him still by his neck and the other pinning his hands together above his head and he was just learning all _kinds_ of things about himself today.  
  
"Hey so I’m claiming at least half a point from that" was what he tried to say, but halfway up Azula’s tapered fingers scraped across his throat and pulled the words to threads so that all that came out was a strangled " _hrk_ " as he desperately tried to figure out a way to tell his blood to stop doing what it was doing.  
  
Azula smirked down at him through lidded eyes and that was it, they were going to have to dig up this bit of the training ground and bury him right here, because he was never, ever moving again. Her head drooped until he could feel her breath on his ear and he was so sure his heart was about to shake out of his chest when she spoke in what he could only describe as the smuggest tone of voice he had ever heard.  
  
“ _I win._ ”  
  
And just like that, the spell was broken, and he collapsed into the most relieved case of the giggles of his entire life.  
  


* * *

 

  


As she pulled him to his feet, she noticed for the first time the long bruise down one arm. He wore it easily, apparently completely unconcerned, and when he noticed her inquisitive glance, he shrugged.  
  
“I'll just get Katara to have a look at it, no big deal.”  
  
“She's a healer?” Azula had heard of the talent, of course, but never seen it in action.  
  
Sokka made a seesaw motion with his hands. “She sat in on a couple of classes. Stayed awake long enough to figure out how to fix up bruises. She doesn't like it much, though. She's more into the whole hitting-people thing.”  
  
Azula raised an eyebrow. “Well, in that case, you might be out of luck.”  
  
Sokka gave a shrug. “I'll just tell her my girlfriend keeps beating me, she'll understand,” but he couldn't hide the question in the joke, or the unguarded look in his eye.  
  
Azula was not one to fail to recognise an opportunity. Holding him still by his shoulders, she ducked in, and kissed him, tasting the sweat his skin, feeling his breath hitch in his throat.  
  
It was always good to communicate your position as unambiguously as possible.

 

* * *

 

  
Prince Ozai was staring into the fireplace as Aang entered, fingers intertwined under his chin, sitting back in a deep chair. Wordlessly, he nodded to the seat opposite, and the Avatar accepted the implicit offer, dropping into the tiny oasis of glowing light in room kept dark by heavy curtains.  
  
“Thank you, Avatar,” Ozai intoned, slowly, “for attending my Father's funeral today. It has been a strained time for everyone.”  
  
“It was really nothing,” Aang demurred. “What did you want to see me about?”  
  
Ozai let the question ring in the air, and then exhaled, slumping forward.  
  
“You recall, I trust, how Sozin's Comet received its name?”  
  
Aang didn't answer. He didn't have to.  
  
“Quite.” He glared at the monk, suddenly intent. “This goes no further. The walls, as they say, have ears.”  
  
“What's this about, Ozai?”  
  
“My brother will not have an easy year. There will be the Eclipse, and the Comet, and there are... malcontents among the court. There is talk of a push for colonisation. Avatar, I will be blunt. If you were to stay, in the interests of history not repeating itself, you would do my brother, and this country, a great service. You could do much to calm matters.”  
  
“Malcontents.” Aang seemed stuck on the word. Nothing good happened when people started throwing the word _malcontents_ around.  
  
“I can give you names,” Ozai offered, “if that would help.”  
  
“ _No._ No, that won't be necessary. But I will stay.”  
  
Ozai leaned back, exhaling. “Thank you, Avatar. Your presence alone should dissuade the more moderate voices.”  
  
“I suppose I have some letters to write, then,” Aang said, ruefully. As he stood, a thought came to him, and he paused. “Oh, and Ozai? I was sorry to hear about Zuko's accident.” He looked it, too.  
  
Ozai gave a bitter half-smile. “You don't visit often enough, if that's what's still on your mind.”  
  
“I'm beginning to get that impression.”  
  


* * *

 

After the Avatar had gone, Ozai stared into the fire for a long while, before pulling on a velvet bell-rope. After a moment, a servant soundlessly glided into the room.  
  
“Summon my daughter, I would speak with her.”  
  
“Of course, Master.”


	10. My Friends are Frightened, They Don't Know What's Going On

–

 

"No, I _get_ what you're saying, I just don't see what you expect me to do about it."  
  
"Oh come on!  You can't tell me you don't see the problem."

"She's out of the way and doesn't talk to him any more.  Yeah, definitely not seeing the problem."

"Ugh.  The _problem_ is he's going to leave!  They both are!  Sooner or later they're gonna go back halfway around the world, and _then_ what?"

"...Still not seeing where I come in."

"Because you're _good_ at this stuff, obviously!"

"Just because I like black doesn't mean I'm a natural spy."

"Then how do you explain that time at the Admiral's ball?"

"...You're seriously doing this.  You're bringing _that_ up?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes!  Yes I am!"

"...You owe me.  You owe me _big_.  ...You _do_ realise she will absolutely kill us if she finds out, right?"

"Oh come on, I'm sure she won't!  ...I'm mostly sure.  Almost entirely sure."

"I hate my life.  Now can we please get out of this broom cupboard?"

–

Even after all this time, Zuko couldn't quite get over the way she walked.  It was like she was holding a grudge against the landscape for not being more convenient to her.

"Yeah, so I'm gonna have to cancel tonight," she grumbled.

"Oh," and it must have shown on his face, because her features softened, from a face like thunder to _whole trees in motion, effort needed to walk against wind_.

"Sorry.  Ty Lee's blackmailing me into spying on your sister while she's on a date."

Zuko gave this due consideration.

"Huh."

Mai sighed.  "Yeah."

He blinked.  "Wait, she's _blackmailing_ you?"

She glowered, and, metaphorically speaking, branches began to break off trees, and umbrella use became impossible.  "She's bringing up the Zhao thing."

"..The Zhao thing?  The thing where you found proof that Admiral Zhao was embezzling money?  Which got him fired?  Which let Ty Lee come home without having to marry him?  ...Mai, does she know what blackmailing actually is?"

Zuko was one of maybe three people in the world who would recognise the look on Mai's face as acute embarrassment.  "...Yeah.  I _might_ have ...embellished that.  A bit.  Don't get me wrong, he was still crooked, but it... didn't look enough?  He might have still had his title if Azulon was in one of his nice moods.  So I might possibly have forged a couple of documents and planted them in his house.  Maybe.  A little."

"...Have I mentioned that I love you?"

"Yes," she replied, swallowing relief.  "Anyway, I guess it's not blackmailing so much as she's reminding me of what a natural I guess I am, so.  That's my evening gone.  You can, I don't know, hang out with the Water Tribe girl or something."

Zuko raised an eyebrow.  Mai huffed.

"Ty Lee's basically the only person she talks to, and who knows what'll happen if she runs around without a minder.  Just try not to marry her while I'm gone, okay?"

–

Azula knelt, spine curved in a perfect display of subservience. She knew the rules. She just had to wait, and listen. Father, she knew by the small sounds, had moved over to the window (and she remembered from earlier days, when he had not demanded she kneel, that he would be staring out over the city like he had forgotten there was anything else in the world).  
  
“Events are in motion,” he intoned, every syllable precisely cut and weighed, giving her nothing more than he judged her to need, “that could bring ruin to this nation. I will call on you, soon. You must be prepared to do what must be done.”  
  
All this meant little to Azula, but that didn't especially worry her. He would explain, when she needed to know. She was sure of it.  
  
“Oh, and before you go, I must congratulate you. Involving yourself with Hakoda's boy was an excellent display of initiative, in light of your brother's failure. Continue, for the time being. It will prove useful later.”  
  
“Yes, Father.”

–  


The more luxurious guest quarters in the palace had proved woefully inadequate to the task of housing the influx of dignitaries, and so those deemed least likely to complain had been put up in guest houses throughout the city.  A great deal of thought had gone into this selection process- the nobles of the Fire Nation were notoriously proud, and with the looming promise of Sozin's Comet coming ever closer, nobody wanted to take any chances.

Among this number of people that had been determined to be no trouble were Sokka and Katara, which just goes to show that nobody can be right all the time.

 

It was to these quarters- which seemed perfectly decent to anyone who didn't know better, and would have been a slap in the face to a minuscule fraction of the population- that Katara was returning, from a brief visit to the Palace.  It was the only time she had been there since the funeral, and had only gone because she thought she should take the opportunity to finally meet Avatar Aang.

 

All things considered, her coincidentally running into Prince Ozai on her way out was very unlikely indeed.

 

–  


Katara nearly collided with the tall figure as he stepped out of a side room.  
  
“Oh! I am so sorry!”  
  
“Not at all,” he responded, stepping backwards, and oh Spirits she'd nearly crashed into Prince Ozai.  
  
His brow furrowed in recognition. “Ah. Princess Katara.”  
  
She coughed, politely. “It's just Katara, actually. Sorry.”  
  
Ozai considered this. “Of course. In any case, I was hoping I might encounter you, or your brother. You were planning to sail with the tide, correct?”  
  
Katara let out a hum of consternation. “Planning might be too strong a word.”  
  
“I was wondering,” Ozai continued, carefully, “if you might be persuaded to stay longer.”  
  
Her panic must have shown, because he waved a conciliatory hand. “You are worried about the betrothal. I understand.” He sighed. “The betrothal was my late Father's idea. My brother has expressed little interest in cementing such a _formal_ alliance.”  
  
Katara's expression remained guarded. “Then... why?”  
  
Ozai sighed. “My children, I'm afraid, do not have a lot of friends.”  
  
“Can't imagine why.” She couldn't stop herself muttering before it was too late, but Ozai just laughed, a short bark of amusement.  
  
“Quite. Having more people their own age around might be good for them.”  
  
Katara shuffled, inexplicably anxious. “Well, I shall certainly write to my Father. If he doesn't need us back, we might be able to enjoy your hospitality for a little longer.”  
  
“I do hope so,” he intoned, seriously. “Now, I shall not trespass further on your time. Enjoy your evening.”

 

–

 

Katara slammed closed the door of their guest rooms, and leaned heavily against it.  
  
“Is it just me,” she announced, to the room at large, “or is Prince Ozai _incredibly_ creepy?”  
  
“Yes!” Sokka replied, looking up from a page covered in scrawled figures and pictures of triangles. “Yes he is!” He sounded relieved that someone else had made the observation first.  
  
“I swear, he is _up_ to something,” she muttered, hopping out of her outdoor shoes.  
  
“Yep, probably.” Sokka went back to his scribbling for a moment, before a horrible thought crawled across his brow. “Oh no,” he groaned, looking back up at her, “oh no you've got that look, this is the Pakku thing all over again, Katara _no_!”  
  
“You said it yourself! You can't deny something's wrong here!” she retorted, on the back foot.  
  
“Yeah, but I don't see how that means we have to do anything about it! He's a Prince! A _Fire Nation_ Prince! You don't go around snooping in the stuff people like that are doing!”  
  
Katara folded her arms. “You just don't want your girlfriend's dad to be angry with you.”  
  
“No, I- wait, yes! I don't want that! That's a pretty reasonable thing to not want!”  
  
“Sokka, could you for one second stop thinking with your-”  
  
“Katara, _please_ , can we just... not? Can we please go to one major city in the world without a senior official trying to petition to have us arrested? I know something's weird, but maybe we can just have a calm and normal and completely tranquil visit, and whatever's going on can get sorted out by other people? That'd be really nice, I think.”  
  
Katara relented. “Okay. You have a nice evening.”

 

–

 

“Okay,” Mai muttered, shifting to try and get comfortable. It was a losing battle, roofs not being generally designed with comfort in mind. “He's been standing around for about ten minutes, and it looks like she's about to arrive.” She adjusted the telescope, and frowned. “Yep, there she is. Okay, she seems a bit off. They're being shown to their table, and we're pretty lucky they've got a window space. She's threatening the waiter, but it doesn't look like her heart's in it.”  
  
Further down, below the crest of the roof, and out of sight, Ty Lee scribbled in a small notebook. She was beginning to wish she'd learned shorthand.

 

–

 

Katara was just finishing her book when there was a sudden knock at the door. Frowning slightly, and taking note of where the water jug was in this room, she paced over, and opened it.  
  
She'd been expecting Sokka, if she was expecting anyone. A sheepish-looking Prince Zuko was a surprise.  
  
“Oh. Hello?”  
  
He coughed, awkwardly.  
  
“Hi, uh. Sorry this is probably weird, it's just everyone's out this evening and I thought you might like, no wait this is stupid I should go-”  
  
 _My children do not have a lot of friends_. That, at least, was probably true. “Slow down,” she said, not unkindly. “Come in?”  
  
“Sure!” he exhaled, radiating relief. “I just thought, since there's pretty much no-one around and I know we haven't really talked since the whole _betrothal_ thing, but” he shifted, and Katara noticed the long wooden case he held under one arm “I brought some board games?”

 

–

 

“She said a thing, and he laughed so hard he actually fell off his chair. I always thought that was just an expression.”  
  
In the brief lull that followed, Mai felt Ty Lee tap her on the ankle.  
  
“So, you told Zuko to go hang out with Katara for the evening? That's so nice! They'll get along, I think.”  
  
Mai had more experience reading Ty Lee than most, and was almost sure she could hear the question in the statement. _So_ , _you told your boyfriend to go visit the girl he was supposed to go marry. What's up with that_?  
  
But what could she say? _Hey, I'm pretty sure every second Zuko spends in that palace is killing him?_ Or maybe _I literally trust a nearly-total stranger to have fewer bad intentions towards him than literally all his blood relations?_ Perhaps _at least she seems less likely to give him another scar because she's bored_.  
  
“I figured it was about time he started getting used to other people that can talk in whole sentences. Might be good for him.”  
  
“I agree! ...You wanna switch places? My wrist's getting tired.”

 

–

 

Katara sat back, and considered her next move. Honestly, she wasn't great at Pai Sho, but at least Zuko wasn't much either.  
  
“So,” she said, to fill the air. “Where is everybody?”  
  
Zuko shrugged. “Azula and your brother are on a date. Mai and Ty Lee are spying on them.”  
  
“Oh.” Katara's brows furrowed as they untangled that sentence. “...Why?”  
  
Zuko sighed, in a defeated sort of way. “Eventually you stop asking that.”

 

–

 

“Oh wow, look at her! She's smirking with _both_ sides of her mouth!”  
  
Mai sighed.  
  
“Not really sure how to write that down. _Azula discovers what a smile is meant to look like.”_ Mai had heard of hypocrisy, and had decided long ago to not let it slow her down.  
  
“Oh you shut up, this is great! They're actually really getting along!”

 

–

 

Katara was facing a problem. _Sokka,_ she knew, wouldn't have been in this situation- he seemed to be better at not offending people. But the curiosity was burning inside her, and she just _had_ to know-  
  
“Zuko, if you don't mind me asking-”  
  
“Hm?” he intoned, mildly, still intent on the board.  
  
“How did you get that scar?”  
  
Instantly she knew asking had been a mistake. His jaw locked and his hands bunched into fists.  
  
“It was an accident,” he recited. “A long time ago. It was my fault.”  
  
“Oh. Sorry,” she said, trying too late to undo the damage, feeling acutely guilty. “I shouldn't have-”  
  
“No, it's fine,” he sighed, slowly unwinding, but that look wasn't leaving his eyes and she would have given anything for the sea to swallow her up right then and there. “It's just...”  
  
“No, I understand. Sorry.”  
  
The awkward silence that descended lasted for the rest of the game.

 

–

 

"Well that definitely wasn't a waste of time."  
  
"You can say that again!  Did you _see_ her?"  
  
"We were literally spying on her the whole time.  What are you- never mind.  So, what're you planning to do with this information you think you've gathered?"  
  
"Well, now we can move on to phase two.  But I'll need your help."  
  
"Before we go anywhere, I guess I should ask: what is your actual goal here?"

"Didn't you see?  She was _happy_!  I don't even remember the last time she looked like that!  Why, what did you think we were doing?"

"...Finding a way to distract her so she'd never talk to Zuko again?"

"...Oh.  Well, I guess we can work with that.  Anyway, now we can move on to phase two.  ...Your parents are away, right?"


	11. The Wolf With the Red Roses

  
Azula was not used to internal conflict.  
  
She couldn't explain the bizarre urge she'd felt to _confess_ , to tell Father she hadn't for one moment considered her relationship with Sokka a substitute for Zuko's abortive engagement. It had just... he was attractive, he'd made her laugh, and she'd wanted to.  
  
And he drew airships, and he was always thinking, and he smelled like salt spray and a bottle of perfume he'd picked up on Ember Island and he made her smile and he kissed her like he was auditioning for a part and she couldn't think about him without this stab of awful, blazing tenderness and she thought about him _all the time_.  
  
_Continue_ , Father had said, and that was good, wasn't it? Wasn't that what she wanted? She could hardly say she'd wished he'd told her to break it off, could she?  
  
_She had nothing that wasn't his first_. The thought bubbled up, black and oily, and she recoiled from it. After all, that was how Zuko thought, and look where that had got _him_.

* * *

 

Mai screwed her eyes shut, and massaged her temples.

"Okay. Say I agree. Say I let all these people into my house and let them drink all the wine and get their feet all over the cushions and all that sort of thing. Say I let _Azula_ into _my house._ Say I let that happen. What are you hoping for here?"

Ty Lee, contrary to what Mai was bracing herself for, seemed to deflate, just a little. "I just want to see if they can get along. You remember what it used to be like, right?"

Mai knew she had lost, but she had never once conceded anything gracefully and she wasn't about to start now. "Better than you do, apparently. It took _months_ for my hair to grow back, I remember that."

"But it was better than this, wasn't it?" She sounded almost plaintive.

Mai sighed, defeated. "Yeah, I guess."

"So I think it's worth a shot, don't you?"

Mai glared, sharply but without any real heat. "Easy for you to say, it's not your house that might burn down."

Ty Lee smiled, and patted Mai on her head. "Thank you so much! Oh, and don't tell Zuko Azula's coming."

This time the glare was several degrees angrier. " _What_?"

Ty Lee stared blankly. "You really think he'll agree to come if he knows she'll be there? You know how stubborn he is."

Mai's eyes narrowed, as she suddenly wondered how long Ty Lee had been planning this. "I want to go on record as saying this is a bad idea. Not that that'll make _any_ difference, but I want someone to hear me say it."

* * *

 

  
"So, we should probably head out pretty soon," Katara said, pointedly, at a still-recumbent Sokka, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yeah... I was kinda thinking I might sit this one out? Or maybe we could leave early or something?" Katara recognised that the _we_ in that sentence did not include her, and she scowled.

"Oh no, you are _not_ letting me walk into this by myself. Besides, Azula's going to be there, what are you so worried about?"

"It's gonna be _weird_ ," Sokka snapped, suddenly, bunching his hands into fists. " _Zuko's_ gonna be there, and we haven't really talked ever and I'm gonna have to act like we're friends and it's gonna be really awkward!"

Katara opened her mouth to refute this, then stopped herself. She found that she could not, in good conscience, suggest that any conversation with Zuko was not going to be awkward, given her own experience.

She could, however, give advice. "Just don't bring up his scar and you'll be fine. Now come _on_ -"

Sokka gaped. "You didn't."

Katara flushed, and scrambled to defend herself. "It just slipped out! Besides, _you_ were the one going on about his face-"

"Not with him in the room!"

"It's still rude!"

* * *

 

It was almost impossible to miss the way Zuko's shoulders stiffened as he saw who was at the table, leaning back and observing him with lidded eyes, so naturally Sokka missed it entirely, and slapped him heartily on the back with enough force to almost knock him over.

"Hi... buddy!" Sokka crowed, grinning wide and shouting loud enough to very nearly mask the panic in his eyes, "how you doing?"  
  
"What?" Zuko asked, distracted. "Oh, uh. Fine, I guess."  
  
Sokka's rictus grin widened, conveying _I would give literally anything if it meant getting out of this conversation_ more efficiently than he ever could in words.  
  
But Sokka had managed to turn Zuko's unique horror at realising he had been set up for an evening socialising with Azula into the far more common terror of trying to make awkward small-talk with a sibling's new significant other, and so he consented to being steered into a chair.

* * *

 

Wine was produced, looted with no small satisfaction from Mai's family cellars, and passed around in a manner that suggested that either Mai was an accomplished aristocrat, used to cowing guests with her unconcerned extravagance, or that she had no idea how much alcohol was far, far too much alcohol.  
  
"So, Mai," Katara started, setting her cup down and gesturing around the extravagent drawing-room. "Is it just you in this place?"  
  
Mai shrugged. "Sure. Parents are away, took Tom-Tom with them. Servants have the night off."

" _Seeerrrvants,_ " Katara replied, and there was a gleam in her eye that Sokka recognised with a bubbling of familiar dread, so he pointedly kicked her in the ankle before she could get into an impassioned bit of oratory on the Rights of The Working Classes.

"Where'd they take off to?" he asked, loudly, over Katara's grumbling. "Your parents, I mean."

Mai shrugged. "Who cares? If I ask, they'd only tell me, and then I'd have to go _with_ them. I can do without having to listen to variations on Why Can't You Be More Like A Normal Daughter more than three times a year." She ground to a halt, and scowled, as though she hadn't meant to voice the end of that sentence.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry."

"Ha," Mai snorted, leaning back, and for the first time that evening it actually looked as though she was _drunk_. "It's all the rage. Ty Lee's parents auctioned her off to some Admiral guy, so she left the country-"

"I joined the circus!" a voice contributed, brightly, from somewhere behind a sofa.

"The logical choice," Mai concluded, blandly. "And as for _these_ two-" she gestured suddenly at Azula, who very probably nobody but Sokka noticed suddenly stiffen, and Zuko, who went very still.

Sokka figured it was time for him to do the decent thing, and loudly interrupt before someone got horribly maimed. Unfortunately, the only thing he could think to say was _well my Dad's a pretty cool guy_ , which would almost certainly get him knifed.

"Hey, you remember when Mom died?" Katara asked, suddenly, staring moodily into the bottom of her cup.

Sokka blinked. "Yeah."

"No, no, I mean," she shook her head in frustration. "You remember _after_? Dad was gone for a year doing Chief stuff. A whole year. It was like they were _both_ gone."

Sokka's knee-jerk defence stuck in his throat. "Yeah." With anyone else, he might have thought Azula's fingertips brushing his leg was an accident.

A pall dropped over the gathering, thick and awkward. Azula, maybe trying to puncture the mood, spoke up.

“Well, maybe Zuko would get along better with Father if he ever did as he was _asked_ -”

The only sound was Zuko's chair clattering backwards as he leapt to his feet, before he stormed out of the room without a word. Mai started, untangling herself from the sofa, not even taking the time to acknowledge Azula as she charged after the Prince.

In the deathly silence that followed, Katara fought the sudden urge to cough.

* * *

 

She caught up with him in the garden, and he stopped at the sound of her hurried footsteps, but didn't turn around. His shoulders heaved, slow and heavy.  
  
“Why is she here?” he snapped, temper rising like water welling up behind a dam. “Why is she _here_?”  
  
Mai didn't have an answer. Everything she could think to say seemed so flimsy, so glib.  
  
“I'm sorry.”  
  
He spun on his heel, jaw working crazily, breath coming in great heaving lungfuls, fists bunching and opening.  
  
“I _hate her_ ,” he spat, mouth snarling around the words. “ _I hate her_.” His eyes were shining and Mai didn't have to ask to know how long this had been coming.  
  
Later she would decide she took this moment as seriously as it warranted, but in the heat of the moment, cheeks still flush from the wine, she just said the first thing that popped into her head.  
  
“Well I guess this is a positive development. A month ago you'd have mumbled about how sorry you are and then stood in the corner for a few hours.”  
  
For a second he looked shocked and Mai's throat closed at the thought that she might finally have hurt him, but he closed the gap between them and pulled her close, clutching at her like he thought she was going to disappear. His breath rasped into her shoulder and she wasn't sure if he was crying or laughing and she wasn't about to check and see. She just held on to him like he was the only real thing in the world.

* * *

 

Ozai did not open his eyes as the man approached his seat. As he bowed, Ozai began to speak.  
  
“The conspirators have found their agents.”  
  
“Just as you said, my lord. An assassin from the islands.”  
  
That did get a reaction, as Ozai finally looked up. “A single man?”  
  
“Apparently so. He should arrive tomorrow morning.”  
  
Ozai smiled thinly. “Their pockets must be lighter than I thought.” He contemplated the fire, apparently oblivious to the other man. “Summon my daughter. It is time she understood.”  
  
The retainer hesitated. “...My Lord?”  
  
Ozai's eyes narrowed. “You have concerns? Do you doubt me?”  
  
“No, my Lord. It is simply...”  
  
“You doubt her loyalty? Or her competence?”  
  
“She is a child, my Lord. Surely we can outmanoeuvre the conspirators without her.”  
  
“She has been trained for this moment her entire life. I will not allow that investment to be wasted. Summon her.”

* * *

 

They were on a roof. Azula didn't know how they'd got there, and, just at that moment, it didn't seem to matter much. The last instant she recalled was the texture of the ceiling as voices swirled around her, and now, here she was. On the roof. Sokka was there, too, and, to Azula's brain, which was currently experiencing the world in primary colours, this seemed only right and proper.

"Heeere's a riddle forya," he grinned, unsteadily, as the boomerang whipped back to his hand. "How'dya fit a circle insiside a triangle? No, wait, Imean how's a triangle like a circle? No that's not... I'll gettit in a second."

Azula gave this due consideration. "Question doesn't make sense. Not fair."

"Nonono, see, this" he waved the boomerang vaguely, "goes inna, inna _circle_ , yeah? Goes _wooshwooshwoosh_ , lotsalittle circles making one _biig_ circle, yeah? But, but, it'sreally all _triangle_ s _!_ It's sneaky likethat."

Azula blinked.

"Okay, see, I wanna hit.... _that_ -" he gestured to his right, where a pennant fluttered over a nearby house. "WhereamI gonna aim?"

She waved at the pennant. "That way."

"Yeah, but I forgot, there's, like, a wall inthe way,"

"There isn't."

"But what if there _iiis_. Okay. So here's me, callit _one_ , and there's the flagthing, call it _three_ , where's two? Iss _there."_ He pointed dramatically to a patch of empty air, some way in front of him. " _Sooo..."_ he drew his hand back, and threw, unconcernedly.

The blue steel arced through the air and returned to the sound of ripping cloth. Sokka presented her with the ripped pennant and a grin. "Ta _daaaaaaah_."

Azula took a long swig from the bottle.

* * *

 

He was vaguely aware of time having passed. It was cold, colder than he'd gotten used to, and he was sitting on something uncomfortably hard. He looked up and his head span, the stars smearing together above him and around him and probably below him as well if you really thought about it and Azula was there, perched like a gargoyle, knees tucked underneath her chin, curled into herself and solitary as an island.  
  
She started to speak, slow and slurred like she was mumbling at the bottom of a well, full of false starts.  
  
“I gottanidea. We shoul- we shud. They wouln'... they wouldnbeable to _touch_ us. Yunnow? Wouldn... woulbe _mine_. Jusmine. Not'is, all _mine_.”  
  
“Whayousayn?”  
  
“Ws shoulget married.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” she nodded. “They wouln... woulnever see us coming. You can. Make balloons.”  
  
He blinked, astonished. “You r'member?”  
  
“I remember. _Eeeeee_ verything,” she intoned, very seriously, and reached out to tap him on the nose, only for the action to end up as a sort of general smearing of his face.  
  
He huddled up against her, throwing an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close.  
  
“F'r warmth,” he explained, in a scholarly manner. “'S cold.”

* * *

 

“My Lord?”  
  
“...Where is my daughter?”  
  
“...We don't know, my Lord. She appears to have left the palace.”  
  
“...I see.”  
  
“Should we send a search party?”  
  
“No. She will return soon enough. When she does, I want her brought before me.”  
  
“As you say, my Lord."


	12. With Your Bones

  
Azula blinked awake, and immediately wished she hadn't. Her lips cracked, her tongue raked across the roof of her mouth, dry and rasping, light hurt, really  _ hurt _ , and when she tried to push her hand up to her brow to wipe the sweat away it felt heavy and imprecise, like weights had been strapped to her wrists.

After a few moments, a figure swam into vague view in front of her.

“hhhh” she rasped. It was agonising.

Katara handed over a cup of water, not unkindly.

“Good morning. It's morning,” she clarified, as Azula clutched at the drink, pushing herself up off the -couch, she was lying on a couch, and her back _hated_ that she'd slept on a couch- and delicately marinating her tongue in the water that managed to force its way past her lips.

“Whhpn,” she managed, once her mouth was no longer entirely desiccated. Katara, apparently, understood.

"Let's see, Zuko and Mai disappeared pretty early, after your... moment," she recounted, counting off on her fingers, "you drank _pretty_ much a whole bottle after that. Sokka tried to help you with that. Ty Lee went to the bathroom so Sokka thought she'd got lost, so _he_ climbed onto the roof thinking she was there, he then got stuck up there and started singing _Lo Wang of Kyoshi,_ except he couldn't remember anything but the first verse so he got stuck on that for a while, at which point _you_ found him and you are _very_ lucky I didn't just decide to go to bed at that point, you know."

She waited for a while, perhaps hoping for a response, but the fact that Azula couldn't figure out how tongues worked any more was only one reason why she wasn't getting one.

"Eventually you climbed down when Ty Lee started throwing pebbles at you. Well, you climbed down, I think Sokka fell most of the way. He's fine, don't get up. Anyway, we helped you inside and dropped you on the couch, you're welcome."

"I... remember."

"Oh good. Don't mention it."

"Not that... I remember..." oh _Agni_.

It must have showed on her face, because Katara suddenly looked extremely curious. "Go on..."

"A... proposal?" All of a sudden, that thought was overtaken by a rising biological urge. Katara smartly took three steps back.

"Through that hall, first door on your left."

* * *

Katara was not completely sure what to make of Princess Azula. On the one hand, if, at any point last night, Katara had been asked who to pinpoint as the source of all Prince Zuko's emotional problems, Azula would have been the first person to blame. And she wasn't sure that wasn't still right.

On the other hand, Sokka seemed happy. On the other hand again, Sokka's judgement had always been kind of suspect.

But up until the palanquin arrived, Katara had been mostly comfortable thinking of Azula as a problem.

* * *

Azula had been persuaded to drink some water, and was propped up on a sofa, gnawing gently on a dry biscuit, when there was a sharp knock on the door. The princess had made no move to open it, so Katara had, grudgingly, gone to the door, and pulled it open.

A stocky, grey-haired soldier was at the door, helmet respectfully under one arm. Katara vaguely recognised him as the Lieutenant that had been on Ember Island. Behind him, in the street, four men stood bearing a palanquin.

"We are here to collect Princess Azula," he'd said, by way of introduction, which had immediately put Katara out of sorts. Apparently basic manners were optional in the Fire Nation.

"She's not feeling well," Katara had replied, without thinking much of it. "Come back in the afternoon."

She'd made to close the door again when she suddenly felt a presence at her elbow. Azula, silent as a breath, was standing just behind her.

"I have to go."

This had annoyed Katara. "No, you don't. You have to sit down until you're able to walk in a straight line without falling over."

Azula didn't seem to have heard, stepping over the threshold without even looking at her. Katara had been just about ready to snap when she saw the way Azula's shoulders set.

"I'll just tell Sokka you've gone, then?" she'd finished, weakly, and had hardly been surprised when the Princess had ignored her completely.

* * *

Lieutenant Jee marched in front of the palanquin, and tried not to think about anything.

This was proving difficult. He hadn't been a part of Prince Ozai's staff for long, but he'd lived in the capital his whole life, and served in the palace for years. And he had ears, and eyes.

It was not his place to question his Prince. How the man handled his family was his business.

It was a great deal easier to believe that if he just concentrated on walking.

It was worse when they arrived at the palace, and, as instructed, he began to escort the Princess to her father's chambers.

She'd had what he might have delicately referred to as a heavy night, that much was obvious. If it were anyone else, he'd have said she shouldn't be upright, much less moving around in the sunlight. That might have been comforting- after all, he'd caught hell from his parents often enough for sneaking out for an illicit drink or seven- if not for the way she walked. Resigned, heavy, _compliant_. He would have felt infinitely better if she'd tried to bolt.

He left her at her father's door, and tried not to think about it any more.

* * *

Father was talking, but it was hard to pay attention when her every thought was consumed with the mantra _don't throw up don't throw up don't throw up_. Every bit of her was heavy with leaden agony, and it was taking every scrap of composure just to keep her kneeling position without slumping sideways.

* * *

Ozai was no stranger to anger. Anger had been his constant companion for what must have been years. Anger sustained him, made him strong, kept him true to his course. He knew how to leash it, make it a tool.

But not like this. Last night had been a _humiliation_. Zhao was laughing at him, he _knew_ it. He'd put his trust in his daughter, and she'd betrayed it, and made him look like a fool. After everything he had done for her, every moment invested in her, and she'd proved no better than her brother.

And now- he realised with a sudden start that she wasn't even listening to him, and the last thread of his self-control snapped.

* * *

Mai was roused from half-lucid drowsiness by the sudden lack of a presence at her back. Blinking herself awake, she pushed up, and was greeted by the broad expanse of Zuko’s back, as he sat perched on the lip of the bed, facing the window. From the slope of his neck, he was staring at his hands, knotted in his lap.

“Hn,” Mai said, by way of greeting.

Zuko slowly exhaled, and slumped further forward, hands uncurling and flopping limply by his sides.

“It wasn’t an accident,” he suddenly said, a breathless murmur, so quiet it was like he didn’t want her to hear.

“What?” she asked, urgently, not because she hadn’t heard but just to keep him talking, he’d made the step of talking about it, and it had been a long time coming, now she had to convince him to keep going.

“What happened to me. My scar. It wasn’t an accident,” he repeated, dully, like it had happened to someone else.

* * *

Slowly, gently, without even realising it, she began to slump further forward, until her forehead was resting on the cool wood of the floor. With a gentle sigh, she closed her eyes, relaxing just a little into the pressure on her skin.

With a dull, creeping horror, she realised that the room had gone very quiet. Father had stopped talking.

The floorboards shook, and as she suddenly jerked her head up, she caught a glimpse of the hem of his robe, whirling towards her as she quickly averted her eyes.

"Azula," he said, low and quiet, and she almost dared to hope, looking up.

His face was a mask.

"You have disappointed me. You have _insulted_  me. You have _embarrassed_ me beyond imagining. I grant you freedoms, and this is how I am repaid?" His nostrils flared, his neck bulged.

"Father-" this couldn't be right, she had never failed him, she had always done as he asked, this had to be a mistake-

"Enough. You have failed me, Azula." This had to be wrong she didn't even know what she had done wrong if she could just _explain_ -

"Father-"

"You will be _silent_ ," he hissed, teeth clenched, the force of it tearing her eyes back down, staring unseeing at the floor.

After a pause, too long to hide her shaking, she heard his voice again, curt and clipped. "You will meet me in the training grounds. Ten minutes."

And with that, he was gone, and Azula was all alone. She forced herself to breathe, fighting the mad urge to run, or hide, or curl up on the floor and never move again. It was only Father. She had done nothing wrong. She had nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

Aang stopped short as he came across Prince Ozai, and waved.

“Good morning!”

Ozai bowed. “Avatar. On your way to meet my brother?”

Aang’s forehead creased a little more, wrinkles shifting to get out of the way of his brow. “How in the world did you…”

The prince allowed himself a small chuckle. “He asked a lot of questions about you yesterday evening. Mainly he was interested in what teas you like.”

Aang looked slightly befuddled. “…Hot?”

Ozai clapped Aang lightly on the shoulder. "Refrain from saying anything like that, and you should get along well enough. Now, you must excuse me.”

“Training?”

“Yes, actually. I was hoping to teach Azula a few things.“

"I’m kind of tempted to join you, actually. Maybe I can wrap up this meeting with your brother early, and swing by?”

Ozai’s jaw dropped in horror. “You’d make an old man fight the Avatar? In front of his own daughter? You have no respect for my dignity, do you?”

Aang laughed, lightly. “Alright, you get away with it this time. But next time,” he cackled, as Ozai paced away, “next time you are going to _get_ it!”

* * *

“He had… a plan. I don’t know the whole of it, he never told me, but he kept saying I had to be ready. He didn’t tell me for what. He had me training for days at a time, but I wasn’t- he told me I wasn’t- good enough, or strong enough. He kept pushing me, over and over and I couldn’t take it any more and I- I told him to stop.

"And he did this to me. He was so angry, and I couldn’t- I didn’t fight back, I just wanted him to see I couldn’t do any more, that I wanted to do something other than learn how to fight- and when I woke up… he’d told everyone I did this to myself, that I’d been in an accident. And then I guess he moved on to Azula.”

He stopped short, and slowly breathed in.

“He moved on to Azula,” he repeated, voice trailing into nothing. He looked sick.

Mai shifted, uncomfortably. After a while, she cleared her throat.

“So what do you want to do?”

He blinked, helplessly. “I don't know. I don't know if there's anything _to_ do. I just... I don't know.”

Mai gripped his shoulder, gently.

“Well, I'm in favour of not moving until the servants get back and tidy this place up.”

* * *

So it'd been a day. He was pretty sure it'd been a day, right? Time, as he was learning, went kind of funny when you were hung over. Point was, his head barely hurt any more, which meant it was probably dark outside, and he could very nearly think in complete sentences again, which meant time had definitely passed.

Which meant Azula'd been back at the palace all day. No worries there, that was, after all, where she lived, it contained her room and important stuff like that. It absolutely wasn't worrying him that she'd left before he'd even woken up, she'd probably been called away. It happened, probably.

Still, it _would_ have been kind of nice to see her when he'd woken up. If nothing else, he could have laughed at her, because, if Katara was a trustworthy source, hungover people were _hilarious_.

Tomorrow. Yeah. He'd go up to the palace and visit her tomorrow. That sounded like a good plan. Let her sleep it off for the night.

Maybe in the morning his head wouldn't be hurting quite so much. He could always hope.


End file.
